


Spring Awakening

by fencer_x



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Kid Fic, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-20
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 19:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 65,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Semi-AU in which Ritsu's life takes a different route after he returns to Japan from studying overseas. Years later, he joins Marukawa Shoten...but with a little extra baggage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, another semi-AU XD; What can I say, I love tweaking canon! I've got a fairly good idea of exactly where this will be going and how long it'll take to get there, so that's a change at least 8D I do hope you enjoy!

"Got your hat?"

A nod, overly exaggerated to show the hat in question atop the small head.

"And your pack?" Another nod, coupled with an elegant twirl to display the rucksack strapped to her back which very nearly caused her to tip over in the process, and Ritsu released a sharp laugh and reached forward to steady the thin little shoulders hunched with determination. "Okay, okay--I see. Then…" He tapped his chin and cocked his head in thought. "Wait, did I already ask about your hat?"

Onodera Harumi puffed out her cheeks in frustration, shoving her father on the shoulder and rolling her eyes to great dramatic effect when he made a show of wheeling backwards as if met with some great force. "Of _course_ you already asked that! Can we go now?" She bounced up on her toes a few times and did a little dance. "We get to paint our projects today! And I want to pick my brush before anyone else! There's a pink one--and it's got glitter on the handle, and it's not old and messed up like the other brushes, and Sensei said if I get there early I can pick first! And we're gonna be late now."

"Well that just won't do…" Ritsu allowed solemnly, stepping back and holding a hand out, gesturing to the little white sneakers lined up neatly beside his own loafers in the genkan. "I guess we'll have to take that shortcut by Kurogane-san's shop and buy some _taiyaki_ on the way…" Her eyes lit up, glittering with excitement, and Ritsu slipped down into a squat, lowering his voice. "…But don't tell Mommy I let you have it after you brushed your teeth already, 'kay?" She delivered a firm nod, and Ritsu patted her hat down with a few taps. "Good--then get those shoes on. I hear we're late."

There was a mad scuffle in the narrow genkan as father and daughter struggled to slip on their shoes at the same time, with Harumi finishing first and bursting out the door while Ritsu groped for his bag and grabbed his keys hanging on a small hook by the door, casting one last glance into the mirror before deeming himself as fit as he was going to get--first day at a new office or not--and following his daughter out the door.

As he fumbled with the keys, Harumi was already toddling down the empty hallway, arms spread out on either side as she walked along an imaginary balance beam, skipping forward a few paces every now and then. Ritsu quickly caught up, jerking at his lapels to straighten his jacket and adjusting the little hat on her head. She frowned and readjusted it, casting a wary glance up that seemed to ask what he thought he was doing, mussing a lady's hair like that. "Sorry," he apologized out of habit, and pressed the button to call the elevator to their floor.

He was starting to get used to this, at least--that was something to be grateful for. His whole life had crumbled around him (had been doing so for some time), it felt like, and he was struggling to pick up the pieces and place them back in some semblance of order, but amidst all the chaos of divorce papers and custody decisions and apartment rental contracts and resume filings, Haru-chan offered Ritsu something familiar: the unwavering, undying love of a child for a parent. And that steadfast, unchanging support coupled with An-chan's guilt-steeped understanding and his own stubborn determination that tended to show itself at the least opportune moments…was actually starting to help his life coalesce into something he could maybe perhaps manage. Something he could work with, mold into something resembling normalcy until he looked back at himself ten years from now and thought, _"Why was I ever worried that I'd made the wrong decision?"_

Because it hadn't been the wrong decision--on that he remained (and would remain) resolute. He'd made…a _lot_ of wrong decisions in his life, bent to the will of too many others and not listened to himself enough. But this? This was the first _right_ decision he'd made in a long time; An-chan knew it (even if she didn't like it), Haru-chan would understand it when she was older, and everyone else would come to accept it in time.

For now, though, there was kindergarten for Haru-chan--and the first day of work at a new office for Ritsu. He strongly suspected she was going to have a much more fulfilling day than he was--what with glittery pink paintbrushes and art projects and all.

He shook his head in remembered amusement at her excitement before feeling the air behind him close in, pressing lightly against his back. Beside him, Haru-chan twisted around, straining to glance over the backpack across her shoulders at what Ritsu assumed was a neighbor drawing up behind to stand in line and wait for the elevator as well.

Ritsu tugged on her arm to draw her attention back, but she refused, openly gaping at their companion. Even when the elevator dinged its arrival with a soft, melodic tone and they boarded, she remained fascinated.

Inside the car, Ritsu regarded the object of her attentions with casual interest--just a man, dressed in what looked to be simple slacks and a dress shirt underneath his long, dark woolen trench coat that hung snugly against his lean frame, tied at the waist with a loose knot that seemed to embody the disinterest that draped itself over the man as he tried to ignore the way Haru-chan's stare bore into him the way only a small child's gaze could.

Haru-chan reached out to touch his coat, testing the feel of the fabric, and Ritsu let out a soft _ah!_ of surprise, hand snapping out to tug her back towards his side, chiding, "You shouldn't bother him, Haru-chan."

She frowned up at him, looking like she wanted sorely to explain why she just had to brush the man's coat, but she was stalled by the man himself offering, "…It's fine. She wasn't hurting anything."

Ritsu glanced up, still bent at the hip to bring himself down to Haru-chan's level, and offered a weak smile of apology, quickly directing his attention from the man with the slick black coat and voice that was strained and a little gravelly from smoking but still rich and playful underneath. He straightened back up and gave Haru-chan's hand a squeeze to call her attention.

"So--what's this project you're painting today?" He lifted his brows when she finally favored him with a curious glance, attention garnered. "It must be important if you're in such a hurry to get started."

Her cheeks flushed with excitement and a grin worked its way onto her face as she nodded eagerly. "A flower pot!"

"Oh, _well_ then…"

"And--and when it's Spring, we're all gonna take them and plant stuff in them! And have a class garden! And we get to take them home and take care of them, Oh--and…" And she was off, babbling a mile a minute and having now completely forgotten the tall man and his wool coat. The elevator shortly thereafter reached the lobby floor, and they spilled out into the entryway, leaving the man to check his mail while they exited the building and hustled out into the crisp, early-winter air.

It was just chilly enough to bite at the extremities and leave one seeking the sunlight where one could, only opting for the shadows cast by the homes and businesses around them as respite from the gusts that whipped through the back roads around Sengoku.

The walk to Haru-chan's kindergarten wasn't far at least--that had been the whole reason they'd moved here in the first place. Now…it was really the only reason Ritsu even got to see her as often as he did, with An-chan having moved to Shibuya-ku; divorce was hard enough on a child, even one as young as Haru-chan, and while she didn't seem to let it show, Ritsu suspected that she'd taken note of how her mother and father didn't spend as much time together with her anymore, how Daddy took her to school in the morning while Mommy picked her up in the afternoons and cooked her dinner before tucking her in. How did you go about explaining things like _we never should've married in the first place_ and _I just…I can't love you An-chan; I can't be_ in love _with you_ to a five-going-on-six-year-old?

"Daddy?" Ritsu's attention was snapped back to the present, and he felt his heart rate rise with nerves, conscious of Haru-chan's concern as she squeezed his hand. "Are you going inside, too?"

They'd reached the front gates, a small sign slightly obscured by ivy overgrowth reminding parents to first check in with the front office if they wished to accompany their child inside. He shook his head shortly. "No--sorry. Daddy's just nervous about his first day."

She grinned toothily at him, swinging their arms together where their hands were still linked. "You're not supposed to be scared of anything! You're a grown up!" A shrill whistle blow sounded across the front courtyard, and she perked up, throwing him a smile before releasing his hand and waving back. "Work hard and don't get into fights with the other grown-ups even if they don't want to share with you!"

"I'll certainly try," Ritsu called out to her back as she charged towards the school building, joining a veritable herd of other little girls who cheerily greeted her and pulled her into their circle.

It was no exaggeration to say Ritsu would've given nigh on anything to be able to trade places with his daughter and go paint flower pots with glitter-stained paintbrushes all day than to make the trek to Iidabashi and surrender himself to the corporate offices of Marukawa Shoten, a point made all the worse by the fact that he'd _fought_ for the opportunity to do so.

After all, what better way was there to reinvent yourself than to change careers?

All right, so moving from one publishing company to another was not so much _changing careers_ as changing offices, and he'd had to use his much-maligned connections to some extent to wrangle a transfer this late in the season (not to mention the veritable earful he'd gotten from his mother when he'd dropped the decision on her), but…it was symbolic, the gravity of the change more meaningful than the fact of it.

He slipped into a rare empty bench space in the subway car that pulled up just as he was descending the stairs onto the platforms, letting his head fall back against the wall and fighting letting himself be lulled to sleep by the soft drone. It was only two stops to Kasuga, and then a changeover and one more stop to Iidabashi. He couldn't let himself take even the quickest of catnaps--especially not today, when first impressions were so important.

Today was the first step of the final leg of his journey to strike out on his own--to shake off the shackles of arranged marriages and family businesses and hands holding his own and guiding him every step in his life. He was going to be Onodera Ritsu from now on--just Onodera Ritsu, a literature editor once-divorced who had an adorable daughter, a well-to-do family who cared for him but kept their distance at his request, and who didn't much get along with cats but found them pleasant enough animals. He was no one's husband, no one's heir to a publishing empire or any such thing, he was just…a regular guy trying to catch a break.

But breaks didn't just fall into your hands--or else why would people always be trying to catch them? No, he would have to make effort on his own, which was exactly what this was. He mounted the steps of the escalator in rapid succession, passing the half-asleep commuters on their right as he made his way to the Oedo platforms, and gripped the shoulder strap of the bag he carried tighter against his chest. He was a good worker--a _hard_ worker--and the employees of Marukawa would be able to appreciate it perhaps far more dearly than those at Onodera Shuppan had. It was just up to Ritsu to prove it.

Which, of course, was easier said than done.

His first clue should have been in the fact that the young woman briefing him on his placement had a smile pasted on which looked entirely too forced, as if she had lost in the betting pool and was now tasked with delivering Ritsu's sentence.

"I'm being assigned… _where_?"

Her smile was unmoved. "Marukawa Shoten's shoujo manga department, under the Emerald name."

"But--" Ritsu struggled to get a grip on reality, glancing around furtively, fully prepared for this to all be some cruel prank the company higher-ups played on new employees. "--I'm quite sure we discussed during my interview that I was a _literature_ editor at my previous company. I have--absolutely no experience in _shoujo manga_ , and it really would be best for all involved if I was kept in that field!"

The woman's smile started to crack a bit, and she cleared her throat, daintily organizing the stack of papers in front of her. "That…may be so, but…"

Ritsu tapped the table in front of the pile nearest to him. "Please--couldn't you check again? I'm sure this must be some sort of error, some--printing mistake, or misfiled resume perhaps?"

She was frowning now, drawing the topmost sheet of paper away from the pile and cocking her head, sighing shortly. "But--it says right here: 'mid-career recruitment of Onodera Ritsu'…into the shoujo manga department of Marukawa Shoten. Surely you can see everything's been filled out correctly, can't you?"

Ritsu ran his eyes over the neatly printed black and white ink, despairing when it became clearer with each passing moment that this was, in all likelihood, not a mistake--simply karma coming back to bite him in the ass for giving up his office space at Onodera Shuppan.

She must have noticed Ritsu deflating, his fight dying down, for she perked back up almost immediately. "Well then, shall I show you to the editing department now?"

A short elevator ride had them quickly transported to the fourth floor, which was abuzz with staff bustling around cradling manuscripts or in the middle of lively phone conversations with printing companies. Workers ducked in and out of several doorways, but his guide walked him down a short hallway, ignoring their surroundings.

This was _horrible_ \--how was he supposed to make a new start…in a field he not only had no experience in, he had no _interest_ in? Hell--Haru-chan was probably more suited for this position than he was. Sure, his life so far probably was steeped in as much melodrama as the typical shoujo fare, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend his days with his nose buried in it or that he was suited to critiquing it. He needed literature, real _meaty_ material with some substance to it that moved the heart and soul and left you panting for more after you'd finished. This was…humiliating.

He tried to make conversation as he attempted to keep up with his guide. "Umm--well, just…isn't shoujo manga basically a dead-end job for a guy?"

She tossed a glance over her shoulder, eyes bright and brows raised. "Not at all! Especially not _here_. Of course, in the past our shoujo manga department may have been something of a dead weight to the company, but with the recent arrival of a new editor-in-chief, it's really picked up in sales. They were top of the company last year and even received an award from the CEO! Plus…" She swayed a bit, and her shoulders hunched. "All the editors are _really_ handsome."

Ritsu made a face; did she think this was supposed to sway him? Until he realized that this meant--"Wait, so all of the editors are men?"

A nod. "They are! And of course a lot of the female employees have their eyes on them--it's quite a catch, after all: a man who completely understands how a woman's heart works!" Her shoulders hunched again, and this time she didn't bother to suppress her soft squeal of excitement. "You'll be shocked when you see: at the beginning of the cycle, the air is just full of this dreamy quality, the whole place is steeped in pheromones or something almost!"

Ritsu frowned in confusion. "…Cycle?"

She waved him off. "You'll understand once you see it!" She then drew to an abrupt halt and knocked on an open door, sticking her head inside one of the open offices. "Excuse me? I'm from the general affairs division and have a new employee with me…"

A man poked his head up from where he'd been hunched over a stack of manga panels. "Ah, Emerald's newbie? Over there."

Ritsu sighed as he traipsed after the woman, heading a few doors further down the hall where they'd been directed. It was best to quit before he formed any ties here--no sense in getting attached to people at a dead-end job. Even if this department was as amazingly prolific and profitable as it was made out to be, the fact of the matter was that it was _not_ a place for Ritsu to put down roots.

But--he steeled himself. Well, he could always check it out, just for a few days. Maybe he could actually learn something. Shoujo manga _was_ shoujo manga, but at the same time it was just another division of the publishing industry, and at the very core most all of the divisions shared a lot in common. Literature or manga, there was still something to be learned from a guy who could pull a dying magazine like Emerald off the rails and send it to the top of the company. It was no small feat, to be sure. The guy had to have some serious skill, either honed over a long career in the industry or just innate marketing genius; either way, it would behoove Ritsu to pay attention during his (hopefully short) time in the department.

His guide held out her hand to mark the Emerald offices, and Ritsu took a deep breath, closing his eyes and bowing as appropriate. First impressions were important--and he was stuck in this department for a good two weeks. Best to start off on a good note. "My name is Onodera Ritsu, and I'll be working with you all starting today."

He waited, patiently--there would be a shuffling of chairs, a chorus of greetings, and then this acclaimed editor-in-chief would wander over for more personal introductions. Ritsu could run through this process in his sleep, it was so--

"O--oh _dear_." It was his guide, and he let his attention wander back to her rather than on how best to keep his wits while cooling his heels in a department steeped in shoujo fare. "This is terrible. Just, just--" He glanced up and noticed her cover her mouth, pallor going a bit sick. "I'm so sorry--it looks like there was a mistake with the timing of the cycle!" She patted him on the shoulder, pasted on that false smile again, and darted back down the hall, tossing back, "Well--good luck!"

Ritsu felt a chill go down his spine as he turned to regard the office he'd just committed himself to.

"Oh…crap."

* * *

First impressions were indeed important--nowhere was this demonstrated better than on his introduction to his office mates. He was sure they were perfectly nice people…on most days. But the almost tangible miasma which draped itself over the entire office was off-putting to say the least, and Ritsu was left feeling bad that he'd disturbed what looked like a rather peaceful grave, stocked high with the corpses of once-capable shoujo manga editors.

His co-workers ( _temporary_ co-workers) struggled to rouse to life, a mumbled chorus of pathetic greetings mingled with confusion as to whether or not today was actually the day that the newbie was supposed to arrive (wasn't it _obvious_? Ritsu doubted anyone would come here under these conditions unless asked to…) and a call for, "Takano-saaan…the new editor…"

Ritsu followed the gaze of what likely used to be a first-rate editor until his eye fell on a pile of manga panels and reference books, trembling atop what turned out to be a fourth member of the editing team that he'd previously taken for a trash pile.

"Takano"-san grumbled from where he'd been passed out, books and papers falling to the wayside as he dug himself out from the pit and regarded his office space with disappointment evident on his hard features. He tossed a book that had slipped into his lap over his shoulder and brushed the debris from his shirt, glaring at Ritsu as if this entire situation were his fault.

Ritsu froze in place under the calculating gaze--but then quickly found his strength sapped for another reason entirely: "You're…from this morning!" He covered his mouth, flustered, when he realized he'd raised his voice enough to wake the rest of the editors from their slumber where they'd all been slumped over their desks. "Ah--I mean…"

Takano-san snorted, a scornful noise, and felt around on his cluttered desk for a pair of dark-rimmed glasses which he smoothly slipped on, pushing them up the bridge of his nose and giving Ritsu a proper once-over now. "…Who the hell are you?"

Ritsu frowned; this guy was definitely the same from that morning in the elevator. The voice, the very air with which he held himself, even amidst so much chaos, was exactly the same as the tall, imposing figure Haru-chan had been fascinated by earlier. "I'm…Onodera Ritsu. I've just joined Marukawa and was assigned to this department…" He glanced around warily. "This… _is_ the shoujo manga department, isn't it?"

Takano-san somehow managed to navigate himself free of the piles of books and manga panels around himself and drew up close to Ritsu, sizing him up. "Onodera…" He frowned. "I don't remember getting any notice."

One of the editors behind him raised a trembling hand. "Last week… You made it into a paper airplane and flew it into Yokozawa-san's head…when he came to complain about Satou-sensei's reprint…"

"Ah…I remember that." He sighed long-sufferingly and raked his fingers through his hair. "…You don't look very useful…"

Ritsu started, biting his tongue against delivering the lecture that would surely get him fired on his first day--though admittedly, that was a quick way to get out of this whole fiasco. "I…was posted in the literature department at my last job. I requested the same on transferring here…but I was sent here instead…"

He'd hoped for some words of comfort, or perhaps camaraderie. Some kind of reassurance that while he understood Ritsu's yearning to return to the safe harbors of literature, he hoped Ritsu would do his best to help them out here in shoujo manga until a timely transfer could be arranged. He'd hoped…for something better than, "…Ugh, yeah. Definitely useless."

* * *

Being characterized as "useless" at a single glance by a person he was quickly determining to be quite possibly one of the rudest human beings around was…far from the worst part of his first day at Marukawa, Ritsu was quickly realizing.

He certainly hoped Haru-chan had been more successful in painting her flower pot than Ritsu had been so far in trying to find his desk under a mountain of half-checked manuscripts and back-issues of Emerald and advance copies of authors' latest volumes. Then there had been the two straight hours sitting hunched over said desk at Takano-san's order while his desk mate, "Kisa-san", summoned up the energy to help explain the process of getting an issue out to the printers. Ritsu didn't have the heart to rouse the guy when he drifted off halfway through and faceplanted in a pile of unapplied text.

It spoke volumes that he was actually _relieved_ when Takano-san snapped at him to follow him into the hall. "We're going to meet with an author in the waiting room downstairs. Shut up and pay attention--and don't embarrass me by asking stupid questions. Save them for later."

Ritsu felt his temper flare, but bit his tongue and did as he was told, following Takano-san to the elevator. They descended in complete silence, and before Ritsu could grow entirely uncomfortable with the atmosphere and do something stupid like try and start a conversation, the elevator dinged their arrival and Takano-san breezed into the main lobby, headed for a side room stocked with tables and large windows letting in ample light.

The author, a young woman in her 20s by the looks of it, looked about as comfortable around Takano-san as Ritsu felt, and his heart immediately went out to her as he watched her endure Takano-san's biting (albeit valid) remarks on her work. Ritsu found himself growing increasingly annoyed with the way the man continued to dig into the poor girl, though, and when he noticed her cheeks flushing with frustration, that was about the tipping point, and he stupidly opened his mouth to defend her.

This sent Takano-san griping at the _both_ of them, snatching up a pencil and slamming it down on the table between the three of them, pressing a blank panel into her hands and urging her to redraw what looked to be a climactic scene in the chapter they'd been discussing. Takano-san continued to point out faults in her proportions and angling before going for the neck with a spiteful comment that, "My grandmother gave me sexier kisses than this--do it over."

"Wha-- _now_?" Ritsu couldn't help the sputtered response, voicing what he was sure the young woman was thinking, but Takano-san ignored him for the most part.

"Look--the angle's all wrong. You've kissed someone before, haven't you? How the hell does that look remotely comfortable?"

The woman flushed, averting her eyes and focusing instead on her rejected panel. "Of…of course I have. But--you can't tell what it looks like when you're kissing someone yourself…"

Takano-san grunted beside Ritsu, the first remotely _understanding_ sound he'd heard the guy utter yet. "Fine--we'll show you an example, so watch closely and take note, okay?" He shifted in his chair, pushing away from the desk and angling his body to Ritsu with one hand over the back of the chair to steady himself.

"Ah--" Ritsu perked up, hoping to redeem himself. "Should I get some reference materials? Where should I look? I'll be back as quickly as--"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Takano-san groused, looking more bored than anything, and reached forward with one hand to grip the back of Ritsu's neck, and jerk him forward, bringing their lips together in a kiss that was, Ritsu was quite certain, far sexier than kisses either of them had ever shared with their respective grandmothers.

* * *

"I'm home…"

"Ah!" An-chan's voice was the first Ritsu heard when he shuffled inside, toeing off his loafers and wishing he'd set up a futon right here in the front entryway--so he could just faceplant into it and drift off into dreamland. "…Wow, I don't suppose I need to ask how it went…"

Ritsu favored her with a wry grin, running a hand through his hair and letting his bag drop to the floor at his side while he removed his coat, hanging it on a hook by the door. "…I've had better first days."

An-chan _hmm_ ed evenly and padded back into the kitchen, with Ritsu following at a slower pace. He caught the scent of curry, no longer warm and piercing from being fresh out of the pot but still thick and permeating the small apartment. He craned his neck to see into the kitchen proper. "Haru-chan?"

"In bed." There was a soft hiss as An-chan turned on the faucet, rinsing out a few empty bowls and some silverware before leaving them to soak. She shook her hands, sending sprinkles flying, and reached for a dishtowel to mop them dry. "You're later than you ever were at Onodera Shuppan…" It was impossible to miss the worry mixed with reproach in her voice.

Ritsu slipped into one of the chairs at the small table that served as a dining room table, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the surface while he massaged his temples. "Well, there's a lot to get through in the beginning. I have to work my way up again, and things run differently at Marukawa from Onodera…" He glanced up worriedly. "…It's not a problem, is it? If it is, I'm sure I can let them know my situation, and I could probably manage to be back at least by 8:30 every night to--"

She waved him off, scoffing at his concern. "It was just a comment." Turning her back, she busied herself at the stove, rooting around in the cabinet above for a clean bowl. "Haru-chan missed you at dinner though. She told me to be sure to tell you that she managed to get the pink paintbrush with the soft bristles and the glittering coat, and that you are definitely going to _love_ her flower pot when she gets done." She threw a glance over her shoulder, an amused smile evident in her eyes if not on her face. "She never has a cross word to say about you, you know. She's such a daddy's girl." She sighed and shook her head. "I suppose she gets her affection for you from me…"

Ritsu snorted softly resting his head in one palm and letting his eyes flutter shut for a few moments. "I swear, sometimes that kid…" He felt a shadow fall over his face and blinked, opening his eyes to find An-chan softly setting a bowl of curry over still-steaming fluffy white rice before him, a silver spoon resting against the lip of the bowl. "…An-chan?"

She jerked her hand back as if burned, covering her mouth and trying to hide her flush. "I…sorry. Just…force of habit." She turned back around to pack away the left overs she'd left on the stove. "Just--I made too much tonight, and you're paying for half of it anyways, so it doesn't make sense that you shouldn't be able to eat it, and well…" She trailed off, ticking a clump of hair behind her ear. "I didn't mean anything by it…"

Ritsu forced himself to relax, taking a deep breath and inhaling the familiar scent of An-chan's curry, a subtle seasoning that suited Haru-chan's sensitive palate while still agreeing with an adult's taste. "I didn't say anything…" He reached for the spoon. "Thanks for the meal."

"Sure…"

They continued to share silence for a few more minutes, Ritsu trying not to all but inhale the meal An-chan had offered even though she was far from obligated; they weren't married, weren't living together--An-chan only took care of Haru-chan in the evenings, using Ritsu's apartment to prepare her meals. He'd barely been able to bring himself to eat a meager conbini lunch earlier, though, and work from the afternoon had kicked into full gear, leaving him barely enough time to grab a bottle of tea from the vending machine. He was _starving_ \--more than he was exhausted even. While it felt strange taking advantage of his ex-wife's cooking like this…he couldn't bring himself to turn it away, even if he was wary of the feelings she harbored which drove her to offer him the meal.

…It was tough, having the relationship they had and feeling as if they had to tiptoe around one another, Ritsu not wanting to raise her hopes, An-chan not wanting to look like she was waiting in vain for Ritsu to realize things had been so much easier, if not necessarily as comfortable, when they were one family. These were unspoken secrets between them, open and obvious, and made meetings such as this all the more awkward.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to wake himself up--it wouldn't do to just fall fast asleep in An-chan's delicious (but very uncomfortable to sleep in) curry.

"I'm headed out…" she called from behind him, drawing up close and staring down at his half-finished curry. "…I've left the rest in a plastic container in the fridge, if you should want some more. Or leave it and I'll reheat it for Haru-chan's dinner again tomorrow."

Ritsu smiled softly. "Won't she complain? Curry, two nights in a row?"

An-chan rolled her eyes, bending down until their noses almost touched before releasing a soft _ah_ of realization and swallowing, instead lifting up to press her lips against his forehead in farewell. "G'night, Ricchan." She brushed past him and headed into the entry way, tossing back a wave of her fingers. "Have a good day at work tomorrow."

Ritsu groaned at the thought, quickly brushing aside her momentary lapse in judgment.

Easier said than done.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite his fears that sleep would elude him, and that what little he did get would be plagued with dreamlike retellings of that spectacular display of workplace sexual harassment he'd had to endure, Ritsu found that he slipped into slumber relatively easily, waking groggy and befuddled the next morning to the shrill beeping of his alarm clock and lying on his back with his eyes closed for several long minutes until reality came crashing back into him, reminding him that Haru-chan needed waking and breakfast wasn't going to make itself.

The mornings…were where he missed An-chan the most. And for the most selfish of reasons, really. He didn't miss her companionship or a warm body in the bed next to him (or at least, he was quite adept at convincing himself as much), but he missed the lightness in his step and the way the worries of raising a child were halved when you shared them with a partner. They were of course still trying to settle things, to work out a schedule that would disrupt poor Haru-chan's routine the least (it was hardly her fault things had worked out like this), but the mornings were where Ritsu was alone and on his own and scurrying about trying to prepare his daughter for the coming day when he had a rough enough time getting himself ready.

They said having a child matured you; it certainly had Ritsu perpetually on his toes, eating a meager but sufficient breakfast with Haru-chan where he probably would've just sucked down an energy drink if he'd been on his own. And no matter the reproachful looks his mother gave him these days, disappointment in his choices clearly evident on her face, he knew that she too at least had to have noticed that Ritsu was stronger, his characteristic stubborn determination focused and honed into providing for the only member of his family that really mattered on a daily basis.

Throughout the morning, Haru-chan provided a steady stream of babbling commentary about the previous day's projects and meals, the snacks provided by the school and how Mommy's curry was good but she tried to convince Haru-chan the onions were potatoes and they definitely were _not_ potatoes, yuck. "You shouldn't be picky, Haru-chan," Ritsu chided softly, sweeping his fingers through her hair as he attempted pigtails for the third time in a row. "Boys don't like girls who are picky like that."

She paused her babbling for a moment, asking in a small voice. "…Is that why Mommy doesn't stay here anymore?"

Ritsu stilled his fingers, swallowing the guilty lump in his throat, and shook his head even though she couldn't see him from where she stood before him while he tended to her hair. "…Let's just wear a headband today, okay?"

While she had hardly meant it as an accusation, her words stuck with Ritsu through the rest of his morning rituals, and though she had launched off onto a completely new tangent of babbling involving some game she and two classmates had made up the previous week, Ritsu felt obligated to be twice as attentive as usual, knowing that at some point he would have to explain the intricacies of human relationships to his child and shatter any potential fantasies she might otherwise have about true love and marriages lasting forever. He sighed softly and rubbed a hand over his face--this was not a good way to start the day.

Satisfied with the job he'd done bundling Haru-chan up against the biting chill, he handed her her gloves and guided her to the door where she slipped on her galoshes--pink and decorated with daisies--as a just-in-case, given that the forecast had called for rain that morning.

Ritsu mirrored her movements next to his daughter and pulled his coat a bit tighter around his shoulders when he pushed out into the chilly hallway, locking the door behind them while Haru-chan ran ahead to push the button and call for the elevator.

"It's here, it's here!" she called impatiently when Ritsu took too long to catch up, and she lifted onto her toes to hold the _open doors_ button for him as he added a skip to his step to keep her satisfied with his pace.

She grinned mischievously when, with Ritsu just two steps from boarding, she pressed the _close doors_ button, and covered her mouth to suppress a childish giggle, but Ritsu shot his hand out and heaved the door aside again--helped, he realized belatedly, by another hand on the opposite door doing the same. He jerked his gaze over his shoulder, following the slick black gloved hand up the arm it was attached to (clothed in a familiar woolen coat) and settling firmly on the impassive stare directed at him. "Ta…kano-san…"

Takano-san raised a brow, shoving the door open further and slipping inside to reach over Haru-chan and press the button for the first floor. "…Well? Are you getting on or not?"

Ritsu realized he was standing just shy of boarding, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he watched his boss brush past him and into the car as if he weren't personally responsible for a good sixty percent of the stress causing eruption of new ulcers in Ritsu's stomach.

He ducked his head and slipped on, shoving himself flat against the side wall and keeping Haru-chan close, one eye trained on Takano-san at all times just to be sure he didn't try anything.

…Which was, it turned out, quite unnecessary, as he didn't speak a word the entire trip down, just dozed lightly for the sixty or so seconds it took to reach the lobby. To her credit, rather than gaping in unguarded fascination at their third as she'd done the previous morning, Haru-chan seemed to sense Ritsu's own tension and stuck close to him, fingers curled tight around his own and regarding Takano-san with wary watchfulness. Perhaps, Ritsu mused, she could psychically sense that he was a pervert who seemed to get his kicks sexually harassing his subordinates in the workplace. _Good girl,_ he silently applauded.

Much to Ritsu's relief, Takano-san continued to act as if they were complete strangers, turning on his heel once they exited the elevator and pausing to check his mail (Box 1201-- _fuck_ how had he managed to avoid realizing the guy was his _next-door neighbor_?), and Ritsu took the opportunity to hastily guide Haru-chan out the door, squeezing her hand and jerking her along behind him until they were well clear of the building.

He shivered at the thought that he was now stuck living next door to a veritable tyrant who seemed to have made it his sworn duty to haze Ritsu until he buckled or bolted, and Haru-chan squeezed his hand in concern. "You cold?"

He squeezed hers back, offering a warm smile as he shook his head. "I'll be fine. So--what exciting things are we doing at school today?"

* * *

Ritsu checked with not just one but _three_ different people darting along down the hall outside the Emerald offices before he could be sure that he'd found the right place--the same place he'd been escorted to the previous day--and not some parallel, alternate universe where, instead of a thick, black miasma of exhaustion and confusion, bubbles and glitter seemed to fill the air, complete with the faint fragrance of lilacs and a breezy, dreamy haze settling around the small collection of desks.

His deskmate--Kisa-san--was decidedly more upbeat and chatty, and the rather dreary man who'd been arguing heatedly over the phone with an author yesterday had today transformed into a well-kempt, straight-laced reliable sort who introduced himself as "Hatori"-san, apologizing for being too busy to go through all the formalities the day before. "We all get a bit harried at the end of a cycle…" he'd admitted with a wry smile. "I expect you'll be feeling the effects all too soon yourself." Ritsu's stomach gave a sick turn at the thought that soon he too would be saddled with the same responsibilities these veteran editors--who had likely _chosen_ this vocation--were struggling with.

The only thing that _hadn't_ magically transformed overnight, it seemed, was Takano-san's attitude. Ritsu had retained a small sliver of hope that a good night's rest, which had seemed to do wonders for his co-workers, would soothe the savage beast that was Takano-san's biting commentary on every aspect of Ritsu he could latch onto (his work ethic, business connections, and "frumpy clothes" being his favorite points)--but alas, no such luck.

Instead, Takano-san seemed to be even more uptight, his fatigue from the previous day having apparently dissolved and been instead converted into energy--energy which was then funneled directly into taking Ritsu to task with regard to teaching him the basics of editing shoujo manga, which in some ways was a lot like editing literature (the general flow, at least, was not so very different) and in other ways…was like stepping into another world altogether.

Ritsu considered it a saving grace that Takano-san was a busy man, juggling his own authors along with his position as editor-in-chief, and so he couldn't really spare more than a few minutes here and there to give Ritsu a piece of his own mind on his potential as a shoujo manga editor, instead pushing him onto the likes of Kisa-san and Mino-san, with Hatori-san also occasionally fielding a question when he was free.

Most of the afternoon was spent poring over recently edited manuscripts of Kisa-san's, his notes a simple, scrawled smattering of comments in the margins that Ritsu transformed into notes of his own, scribbling into a small notebook _pacing is key_ and _avoid text over busy background_ and _cliffhangers_ (underlined several times), fighting rolling his eyes at the cheesy dialogue and dreamy, bubbly look the panels took on when the heroine locked eyes with her love interest.

 _BAM_

Ritsu shot up straight, glancing around nervously for the source of the distraction, and spotted a sheaf of papers--this time, Takano-san's work--by his desk which had not been lying there before. He twisted around in his chair, brows furrowing, and found Takano-san staring down at him, briefcase in hand with his arm thrown casually over his shoulder. He raised a brow when Ritsu met his eyes.

"You spending the night here?"

"Eh?" Ritsu blinked a few times in succession before directing his attention around the office--realizing only now that they were the last two to leave that evening. He'd been completely engrossed in trying to catch up to everyone else that he'd missed the farewells from his coworkers, their numbers dwindling until only he and Takano-san remained. _Perfect_.

He swallowed thickly and gathered up his papers scattered about his desk, laughing roughly to himself. "Oh--no, no of course not. I just…didn't notice everyone else had left." He shoved a stack of papers into a clearfile, fingers trembling and slipping on the material as he tried to quickly straighten up his area. "I apologize, I must have just been focusing so hard…"

"It's fine. Take your time." And for once, it didn't sound sarcastic. It didn't sound _gentle_ or _giving_ , really, but this in and of itself was such a huge leap as far as interactions went that Ritsu couldn't help but openly stare for a few long moments prompting Takano-san to add, "…or gape at me like an idiot all night. Either's fine with me."

Ritsu quickly sputtered an apology and returned to attempting to prepare to leave for the day, pausing only in confusion to ask, "…Takano-san, are you…waiting for me?"

Takano-san leaned back against a filing cabinet, giving Ritsu a look that suggested he had never heard such an inane question. "If I am--aren't you being kind of an asshole by piddling around asking stupid questions you could very easily figure out the answer to by getting your gear together so we can leave?" Ritsu flushed in anger, and Takano-san scoffed at the reaction. "We're going the same way anyways. Is it a problem?"

"No…" Ritsu lied through grit teeth, shoving the clearfile into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder after donning his coat. "You don't…have plans? No meetings or anything?"

"If I did, you're making me late for them." He pushed himself off the cabinet and started for the door, leaving Ritsu to scramble around the dividers after him.

* * *

While Ritsu's first day had been hectic and overwhelming, it was starting to pale in comparison to his second day--though admittedly the strangest aspects of it were only making themselves known now that Ritsu had already clocked out. Ritsu had always been a polite young man, and he knew his place in office hierarchy and never knowingly stepped out of bounds, no matter how he was provoked. While Takano-san was testing his patience with his attitude, Ritsu didn't doubt that eventually, with time--or without, even, since he hoped to be able to wrangle a transfer as soon as possible--he would be able to let Takano-san's remarks roll off his back with the same ease that the others seemed to practice.

But Ritsu was not prepared for _small talk_.

He liked keeping a professional distance with his coworkers, partly because he just tended not to fit in with others around the office (who at Onodera Shuppan had largely avoided him because of his name) and partly because he had enough problems to worry about besides keeping up friendships and relationships outside of work. Haru-chan was a handful these days, especially with one less pair of hands around full time to help, so it was all for the best that he not be invited out for a post-work drink or three.

Takano-san, suffice to say, did not seem to feel the same way.

While the train ride had been blessedly silent, the packed car leaving little room to make conversation anyways, the nine-minute trek up from Sengoku station was awkward and stiff until Takano-san broke the silence with, "…So, that kid you're always with."

"Eh?"

"Is she yours?"

Ah--Haru-chan. Ritsu hunched down in his jacket, not minding that his voice was a bit muffled in his scarf. "Y-yes. Her name is Harumi--but most everyone calls her Haru-chan."

Takano-san snorted, "Cute," but didn't sound like he found it cute in the least. "…So you're married, then?"

"Ah--no. I mean--" Not that it was any of his business, really. "Divorced." He frowned at himself. "…Recently."

He could sense Takano-san cocking his head to the side, eyeing Ritsu, and was somewhat touched with the genuine contrition in his voice when he returned, "Sorry."

Ritsu shrugged, plodding forward mechanically. "It's nothing to apologize for. It's not as if it's your fault after all." He was retuned a non-committal _hmph_ , and while he was by no means obligated to elaborate, he felt the need to explain, adding, "We…just got married really young, is all. We weren't really right for each other, and it showed itself as the years passed." He hitched his bag higher on his shoulder where it had started to slip down.

Takano-san snorted. "So you were stupid kids in love, huh?"

Ritsu couldn't help returning the derisive snort. "Hardly. We were childhood friends--close friends, sure, but…my parents set up the engagement actually. So the marriage just…kind of _happened_. Wasn't much else to do but go through with it." He winced at the memory of their strained wedding and subsequent marriage. "…I'm pretty sure she was in love with me, but…really I guess I just mostly felt obligated." He didn't know where this flood of words was coming from, but now that it had started, he couldn't easily stop it, and he'd probably already humiliated himself with such unprofessional chatter, may as well finish it--he could at least try and bring things back around to square one. "But I got Haru-chan out of it, so I don't suppose it was all that bad."

He glanced over at Takano-san out of the corner of his eye, curious as to just how much he'd put the man off. It served him right; perhaps he'd think twice in the future about bothering Ritsu when he was tired and cranky from a long day of work. His patience in dealing with his boss faded as the day dragged on, and by now he was well and done with the man's tyrannical ways.

"…So you're a glass-half-full kind of guy, Onodera?"

Ritsu blinked in surprise, jerking his gaze ahead again to focus on the asphalt before him as they plodded the last few hundred meters, their building in sight. "That's--well, I mean. It's…mostly worked out, I suppose? The divorce?" He shrugged. "We've set up a schedule so we can both still spend time with her--I get her in the nights and mornings, and An-chan picks her up in the afternoons and spends evenings with her."

"Must be rough on a kid that young."

"There's…really not much other choice." Takano-san hadn't delivered the comment in a judging tone, but Ritsu still felt unnecessarily defensive. This whole situation was his own fault, for letting things get so out of hand in the first place, for never putting his foot down, for letting himself get pushed around, prodded and poked and pressed into a perfect little mold prepared by his parents. He shook his head. "But--the both of us, we want to make it work, so we're doing our best…"

Takano-san laughed softly, dry and devoid of mirth as he brushed past Ritsu into the lobby of their complex, a warm blast of air flowing over the both of them on entrance. "So what, you left Daddy's company after the divorce and are trying to go out and make a new life for yourself? Is this some kind of half-assed rich boy's version of a mid-life crisis or something?"

Ritsu huffed, stalking inside and following Takano-san over to the elevators where he stood leaning against a column waiting for the car to arrive. "It's--that's not what it is at all." The elevator dinged its arrival, and Takano-san breezed on, not waiting for Ritsu to board properly before punching the button for their floor. "It's just--it feels like, I don't know, my whole life has been out of control for so long…" He slumped against the back wall of the car, staring at the floor. "My parents pressured us to get married as soon as I got back from studying abroad when I went overseas halfway through my first year of high school." He rubbed at his eyes, feeling a tension migraine building. "It was kind of this--shotgun affair, really. My parents had chosen my fiancee for me, I entered my father's company mostly because it was expected of me, and I wound up getting premier clients and scaling the ladder while all my coworkers thought it was just because of my name and not because I'd worked for it…" He sighed, a half-groan, and wandered out of the car in a daze when they reached the twelfth floor.

"I just…wanted to be able to be myself for a little while." Was that so very reprehensible? Was it wrong to have had your life planned out for you for so long and to just finally _snap_ , to want to screw up on your own merits, to make your own bad decisions and fight to right them like everyone else? "I'm trying my best here…"

He was distantly aware of silence around him--no pleasant hum of the elevator running, no clop of shined shoes on the linoleum floor…no sarcastic commentary on his life story.

Ritsu turned in place, glancing over his shoulder to find Takano-san standing, frozen, his mouth hanging half open and his eyes wide in confusion, brows knitting as pieces to some mysterious puzzle seemed to fall in place.

"… _Ritsu_ …?"

Ritsu straightened up, his own brows pulling together in wary confusion as he regarded his boss standing before him, staring at him as if he'd just grown a second head. "…Yes? Takano-san?" Had he spoken out of turn? And--why was the guy addressing him so familiarly, when he'd been perfectly satisfied using _Onodera_ thus far?

He opened his mouth to voice these questions aloud, when the doorknob to 1202 rattled, and An-chan stepped out into the hallway in socked feet. "Ah--I thought I heard you Ricchan!" She peered around, following his gaze to Takano-san, who still stood statuesque and unmoving. "Oh--I didn't realize you had a guest. Should I put on some tea?"

"Ah--no, no that's…" He glanced back and forth between his boss and his ex-wife, not sure who to take care of first, and instead decided to solve both problems by removing himself from the equation. "I was--just telling Takano-san good night. Let's get inside, it's chilly in the hall and we're letting out the heat." He moved in, urging An-chan back inside, and she eventually relented her questioning with a shrug of her shoulders. Ritsu grabbed the handle and locked eyes with Takano-san a final time, trying to divine what was wrong with him without risking further verbal beration by voicing the question aloud--but the man just appeared to shrink in on himself, staring at the floor between them. Ritsu swallowed, offering a hasty, "Good night, Takano-san," before retreating into the safety of his apartment and leaving Takano-san to deal with whatever issues might plague him.

It was none of his business anyways.

* * *

Masamune snapped back to himself with the slamming of the door, shivering to his bones despite the fact that it wasn't so very chilly in the hallway. He released a soft _ah_ of loss, the sound almost a whimper when it left his throat, choking him to the core.

 _Ritsu._

He had absolutely no proof, nothing to go on. There was nothing more than circumstantial evidence and hearsay to suggest the remotest possibility that _Onodera Ritsu_ was anything more than a newbie shoujo manga editor who might be passable with time but for now was like a little puppy, constantly underfoot and pissing itself when scolded. What did he share with Oda Ritsu beyond a given name and a sob story that most any self-absorbed kid from a well-to-do family probably could claim as their own?

Nothing. _Nothing_ , but that didn't stop Masamune from gaping, wide-eyed and slack jawed as Onodera slipped inside his apartment, casting a worried glance back at Masamune before brushing off what was likely a most unprofessional expression as simply fatigue from a long day and not having quite completely recovered from the end of the previous cycle.

His fingers twitched at his sides, and his body carried him forward, loafers scraping across the tiled floor until he found himself fighting to keep from reaching out and grabbing the handle to 1202--from yanking the door open and demanding an explanation, putting this whole issue to rest so he didn't have to stand here feeling like he was about to vomit because if that was Ritsu-- _and it was Ritsu_ \--then he was within touching distance, within holding distance. He was close enough to reach out and beat the _shit_ out of because what the hell had that been about? What the hell had Masamune done to deserve to be roundhouse kicked out of bed, what had he done to have the last thing he saw of the guy he'd fallen hard and fast for be his back as he darted off, tearing out of Masamune's parents' place at a frantic pace he usually reserved for beating a hasty retreat when Masamune tried to hold his hand?

He clenched his fist, taking a sharp intake as he forced himself to step back, to stop these rash thoughts, the unfounded suppositions based on the _possibility_ that Onodera Ritsu was more than just a product of nepotism sent to shake up the Emerald ranks. He closed his eyes and shook his head. This was _ridiculous_.

Onodera wasn't a bad guy--his personality grated quite a bit, and it was more trouble than it was worth to try and fashion the guy into a passable shoujo manga editor when he didn't seem too thrilled about the idea himself, but...Masamune would grant that he seemed to have a lot going on in his life, and he certainly had made his fair share of stupid decisions as a kid. Why not allow Onodera the same courtesy?

It was only...no matter the logic he used, no matter how he tried to tell himself that Ritsu had been bonier, had worn his hair a different way, had had a lighter shade to his eyes, hadn't been nearly so stubborn and prickly...he still couldn't help noting things like _he still blushes at the drop of a hat_ and _he's still as damned persistent as always_ and _...it's him._ Fuck, _it's him_.

He leaned forward and rested his head against the cool metal of his door, one hand on the handle and the other braced against the door jamb as he waited with closed eyes for his racing pulse to calm.

He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't _ready_ to have to face this guy again--and yet, now that the opportunity had all but laid itself at his feet, ripe for the taking, he wanted to bust the door down _right now_ and snatch him back, felt a surge of possessive energy rip through him and set every nerve ending on fire, urging him to grab, to _take_ , because Onodera struck him as a stubborn little prick who probably only responded to sheer resolution and confidence.

And if there was one thing Takano Masamune, _né_ Saga had in spades, it was resolution and confidence.

He pulled back, pressing down on the handle and yanking the door open, bracing a hand against the open door and casting a last glance at 1202, offering "...Night, _Ritsu_ ," before disappearing inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Ritsu was starting to wonder, with vague recognition that this was verging on paranoia, if perhaps Takano-san was actually _purposefully timing_ his departure for work to coincide with Ritsu's dropping off Haru-chan at the kindergarten.

It seemed absurd, admittedly--perhaps their schedules just _happened_ to sync up like this, and they were going the same way anyways, so why should it be all that strange that they found themselves waiting for the elevator together like some strange little family unit (Ritsu _refused_ to be the 'mother' in this absurd fantasy), descending the twelve stories to the lobby, and then going their separate ways--Takano-san to check his mail, Ritsu to escort Haru-chan to the front gates of Meika Kindergarten?

It _wasn't_ strange, really, and Ritsu would have thought nothing of it.

Except that for some reason, Takano-san had now taken to _walking with them_ to drop Haru-chan off. Ritsu had first thought it merely curious that Takano-san had broken his routine of the past couple of days as far as checking his mail before heading off to work when, instead of pausing to rifle through his inbox, he calmly followed Ritsu and Haru-chan out the front doors.

Ritsu hunched his shoulders and tried to shake the feeling that Takano-san was glaring daggers at him, unable to bring himself to turn around and actually confirm one way or the other. Perhaps if he didn't lock eyes, he wouldn't be subjected to more uncomfortable small talk. Or maybe he was overreacting--maybe Takano-san just needed to hit the conbini at the corner where they turned to head down the street to the kindergarten. Only a few more steps and then--

Except he didn't pause to head into the convenience store, instead keeping perfect rhythm with Ritsu's steps and maintaining a safe distance of a few strides behind the pair.

It wasn't as if he could ask Takano-san to _not_ follow them. If he did, Takano-san would probably offer some flippant response, petulantly asking why he couldn't walk with them, which would then lead to awkward admissions that Ritsu was just plain thrown off by the guy, that he just wanted to spend some time alone with his daughter and not have to worry about putting on a front for his work superior. _"Don't mind me,"_ he could practically hear the guy urging, with a smile on his face that would seem benign at first glance but be hiding knives underneath. He definitely needed to quit this job before his entire stomach turned into a hotbed of stress ulcers.

He frowned to himself, squeezing Haru-chan's hand a bit tighter than was comfortable and picking up his pace. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why was he just following them, like some silent stalker? The guy had been acting weird since the night before--just standing there, staring and unmoving and gaping at Ritsu like he'd seen a ghost. He'd known Takano-san for all of 48 hours now, but he felt he could safely say that had been quite out of character.

Takano-san struck him as a rather well-put-together individual, one who didn't like to seem ruffled by the goings-on around him--and yet he'd stood there on the landing, with some undefinable expression on his face, looking like he was hurt and confused and hopeful and furious all at the same time. That An-chan had interrupted whatever he'd been about to say or do had been a blessing, freeing Ritsu to gracefully bow out and put off any further interactions with his tyrannical boss until the next morning.

But…if he was perfectly honest with himself, he hadn't really escaped Takano-san just then. No, he'd still been followed inside by the voice echoing in his ears: the strained, almost _pained_ way the guy had so casually called him _Ritsu_. Like a question, seeking affirmation. And--of course he was Ritsu. Onodera Ritsu, same as he'd always been. What was there to respond to? The guy had seen his resume, he'd properly introduced himself and all; why should it have been anything to get so worked up over.

And yet, while all of these questions and curiosities grated, stuck in his craw--he still couldn't voice a single one. The mere thought of the humiliation Takano-san would deliver upon his head was enough to keep him tight-lipped and eyes forward.

Once they drew up to the front gates, Ritsu slipped down into a squat, adjusting Haru-chan's hat on her head--much to her consternation--and tweaked her nose for good measure, telling her to have a good day and to be sure and eat all her vegetables at lunch, as he didn't want to hear that she'd been giving the cucumbers away to Kaneko-chan again.

She frowned, but nodded firmly, shifting onto one foot to lean around Ritsu to catch sight of Takano-san over his shoulder, where he stood waiting silently a few paces behind them. She bit her lip, as if enduring some great internal struggle, before hesitantly raising one hand and waving goodbye to him. Ritsu's brows knit in confusion, and he twisted around to glance back at the man--finding him weakly returning the gesture with a wave of his fingers and raised brows that spoke of his impression with her gall to speak to a stranger in this manner.

Before he could speak up, though, she had twirled around like a little ballerina and darted off into the courtyard, waving excitedly at what Ritsu assumed was a group of her friends. He snorted and shook his head; kids were a handful, and while he loved Haru-chan, he wasn't sad to be able to drop her off to run out her energy with her peers.

"…Your kid's a little weird, Onodera." Ritsu flinched at being spoken to before going on the defensive, whirling around and gaping openly in offense. "Cute--but a little weird."

"That's--you can't talk about children that way."

Takano-san shrugged, turning on his heel and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Not like she's here to hear it. Lighten up." He started back down the path they'd just traveled, headed back towards the station, and Ritsu jogged for a moment to catch up after casting a last backwards glance at the schoolyard, suddenly dreadfully envious of his daughter.

* * *

It was a twelve-minute walk to the station, and then another five minutes on the train to Kasuga, a two-minute changeover, two minutes to Iidabashi, and then eight minutes walking to the Marukawa offices. Ritsu didn't normally note the time his commute took in such detail--except today he was being made _painfully_ aware of just how much time it took from door to door, as this was the time he had to spend making even _more_ small talk with Takano-san.

If last night had been uncomfortable, this morning was bordering on torture. And it wasn't exaggeration--Ritsu could feel his stomach contracting painfully, his heart skipping nervously and leaving him feeling lightheaded every time Takano-san opened his mouth.

"Did you finish going over those manuscripts I gave you?" He stifled a yawn and let his head fall back against the wall behind them, eyes sliding shut.

Ritsu stiffened. "…You mean, last night? _Right_ before we left to go home?" Takano-san nodded, and Ritsu bit his tongue. "…No, I haven't had a chance to--"

Takano-san scoffed, taking in derision. "Lazy ass." He cracked one eye, as if he'd only made the comment to get a rise out of Ritsu, and quickly followed it up with, "Well get a move on--I want to discuss it at lunch. Then we're going to visit one of the studios and light a fire under one of my authors' ass."

Ritsu blinked in confusion. "…Eh? You're--you want _me_ to go visit an author? With you?"

"Got a problem?" He closed his eyes again and crossed his arms. "You'll only learn how to deal with these authors watching your betters do it in person." He didn't give Ritsu a chance to cry offense at the _betters_ comment. "Wake me when we get to Kasuga."

Ritsu snapped his mouth shut, realizing protesting was futile, and pulled out his phone to check for missed text messages, as he wouldn't be free to address any until that evening if he was going to be as busy at the office as Takano-san seemed keen on keeping him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the steady rise and fall of Takano-san's chest beside him and frowned; the guy was all over the place, waving goodbye to Haru-chan one minute and calling her a weird kid the next, staring at Ritsu like a lovesick puppy under cover of darkness and deriding him as a _lazy ass_ in the light of day. Now here he was practically falling asleep on Ritsu's shoulder, oblivious to Ritsu's own confusion as to how to keep a professional distance without seeming too cold.

Dropping off Haru-chan together, wandering the backstreets to Sengoku station and boarding the Mita line, muttered half-asleep requests to be woken when they needed to change trains…Ritsu certainly hoped this wasn't a _pattern_. Even if he managed to transfer departments--it wouldn't change his commute schedule, and he could very well be stuck with Takano-san and his overbearing nature for quite some time. Was this some sort of karma, coming back to bite him in the ass for all but fleeing Onodera Shuppan?

 _"The next station is Kasuga. Kasuga. Please ensure you leave nothing behind when you exit the train."_

Ritsu gently prodded his seatmate, shaking his shoulder. "Takano-san. Takano-san, we need to change trains." He pursed his lips when Takano-san jerked awake, squinting at the light and glancing around. "…Sorry, but you said to wake you…"

Takano-san ignored him, reaching down to grab his briefcase and swinging himself up and around to face the sliding doors, only offering a brief backwards glance to be sure Ritsu was on his heels. They crossed the platform in silence, making their way to the Oedo platforms with no interaction and leaving Ritsu even more confused. Had he caused some offense? Was Takano-san just cranky from being woken up five minutes after dozing off? It wasn't as if it was _Ritsu's_ fault he'd tried to grab a catnap when it was hardly feasible.

The silent treatment continued on until they took their seats at Marukawa, with the first words out of Takano-san's mouth in the last twenty or so minutes being a snapped question at Hatori-san asking how Yoshikawa-sensei was coming with the extra panels they'd requested last-minute for her latest tankoubon printing. Ritsu slinked into his chair, trying to keep his head down to avoid attracting Takano-san's attention, since he seemed to have slipped into a mood between Sengoku and Iidabashi.

Reaching for the stack of papers Takano-san had dumped on him just before leaving the previous evening, he started to leaf through them, dragging out his notebook again and scrunching up his face as he tried to make some sense of the inelegantly scrawled comments. Takano-san was, suffice it to say, a lot less diplomatic in his comments to authors compared to Kisa-san, with some panels completely marred by large red Xs and text reading _the fuck is this?_ and _boring boring boring_. He cringed with each successive page--did the guy have to be so harsh to poor…"Ichinose"-sensei? And was _he_ expected to develop such a personality in order to draw the best out of intractable authors?

He felt a tug at his collar and twisted around, finding himself nearly pulled out of his chair as Takano-san jerked him around like a kitten by the nape of its neck. He scrambled upright again and tugged his shirt free, patting himself down and straightening the material. "Yes?"

"Grab those files; let's get lunch downstairs."

"Eh?" He glanced up at the clock--11:55, and he'd barely gotten through two of the manuscripts. "Oh, ah--I brought something from home, so--"

"So bring it down to the lounge. We don't have a lot of time today and Kisa's babied you long enough. Time to get some real training under your belt."

Ritsu desperately did not want to find out what _real training_ entailed.

* * *

Hours later, Ritsu had not retracted his earlier statement: _real training_ sucked.

He stumbled into the lounge, slumping onto the small couch and letting his head loll back against the cushions while he rested his eyes. Two hours straight of Takano-san drilling into his head the ins and outs of proper pacing in manga panels, the importance of white space and creating a comfortable reading environment, leading the viewer rather than showing--it had been enough to make his head spin then and there _without_ subsequently being dragged to some poor artist's studio and made to bear witness to Takano-san ripping into her before ultimately offering his own and Ritsu's hands as aids in getting her product ready on time.

Something warm pressed against his cheek, and he let his eyes flutter open. Takano-san stood silent before him, chugging down a canned coffee and poking him with another can in his free hand. He looked a bit out of sorts--it was strange, really, seeing him so seemingly calm now when he'd been frazzled and frantic only an hour ago even. To have him here so calmly offering Ritsu a warm beverage was…odd, to say the least.

Ritsu ducked his head in thanks, taking the proffered drink and downing half its contents in a single gulp. He fought a wince as the cushion dipped next to him as Takano-san joined him on the couch. They did share a rather companionable silence for several long minutes, though, the only sounds the noises of a dying workday, the last few straggling workers making their way back towards Iidabashi station or headed out to celebrate their freedom at a nearby bar or restaurant. Ritsu felt a slight twinge of envy--it'd been months since he'd taken an evening to spend with a friend or coworker (Saeki-san totally counted--really!), and while he didn't regret a moment spent with Haru-chan over sharing a drink at a bar or sushi dinner, he did miss having conversations that revolved around more than the nursery rhymes recited after lunch or how they were supposed to start learning English in Spring and that was going to be _so boring_.

Beside him, Takano-san took in and then released a deep breath, sinking a bit deeper into the cushions and letting the leg nearest Ritsu brush his own just at the knee. "…So did you learn anything? Or was today a complete wash?"

Ritsu jerked his head to the side, finding Takano-san staring at him, expression blank but eyes still boring into him, pressing him to respond even though he found his throat suddenly dry. "I…no, of course it wasn't a wash. It was…" He searched for an appropriate term. "…Educational."

Takano-san snorted, lips quirking up into a wry smile. "That's awful diplomatic of you."

Ritsu flushed, passing the coffee can from one hand to the other and back to dissipate the warmth in the chilly lounge. "I didn't mean…" He swallowed. "I did learn some things, was all. You asked if I did, so I was just responding."

Takano-san _hmm_ ed in response. "…Like what?"

"Eh?" Ritsu paused, frantically reviewing the day's events in his mind while Takano-san took a calm, leisurely sip of his coffee. "Just…" He slumped back against the couch, trying to affect as relaxed an atmosphere as Takano-san seemed steeped in. "I thought it was…really impressive."

"What?"

"I--don't agree with your methods, you know. I think you're too harsh sometimes on people who are trying their best--" He hoped he didn't sound petulant or like he was complaining about Takano-san's treatment of himself…even though he _was_ on some level. "--but you obviously care a lot about putting out a good product, and you understand people's limitations, even when they don't quite know them themselves." He squeezed the can tightly, feeling the steel pucker slightly under the pressure. "You have faith in them--in the mangaka. Faith that they won't buckle no matter how harsh your words are, and you know just how to push their buttons to get them to step up." He shrank a bit on himself, knowing he needed to speak the words on his lips even if they were embarrassing, because it was the end of the day and Takano-san seemed to genuinely be curious. "…It's underhanded…but it's still amazing. I think--" He glanced up, conscious that he was flushing lightly and hoping he didn't seem a brown-noser. "I think you're kind of amazing being able to do it. Takano-san."

For a split second, he panicked--as that same expression from the night before flashed across Takano-san's features. That incomprehensible expression that was some muddled mix of shock and awe and joy and pain that couldn't possibly exist for more than a few breaths before morphing into one or another, a flash in the pan.

He didn't dwell for too long, though, on this shift in the tension between them, as shortly he was set on edge as Takano-san swallowed and leaned in with almost frightening quickness, a hair's breadth away from bumping noses in the blink of an eye. He paused, hovering over Ritsu's lips and seeming to consider his actions, and this hesitation allowed Ritsu the moment he needed to recover his faculties and quickly bring his arms up to brace between them. He spread his hands, palms flat, against Takano-san's broad chest and shoved with the full force of his being, forgetting any such niceties as workplace propriety and instead focusing solely on injecting some professional distance between the two of them.

"What the-- _what are you doing_?" If he hadn't been so busy being offended at the impropriety, Ritsu might have been embarrassed at the way his voice got high and breathy, almost falsetto. Instead, he was all but flailing about, scrambling backwards and trying to press himself into the couch cushions, ready to crunch into a fetal position to bring his legs up and teach his boss that this was not appropriate workplace behavior--the hard way.

Takano-san frowned, staring down at his rumpled shirt where Ritsu had grabbed on before shoving him away. He brushed it down flat. "I should think it was obvious."

Ritsu could feel his ears burning with humiliation. "This is--completely inappropriate. It was inappropriate the other day, even though it was to help out that author, and it's still inappropriate now. What's your _problem_?" He knew his tone was less than professional, especially directed at a superior, but given that this was the second instance of harassment in less than a week from this guy, he didn't suspect Takano-san much cared about being "appropriate" at the office.

Takano-san sighed long-sufferingly and wiped a hand over his face, leaning against the back of the couch with one elbow and supporting his head in his hand. “You know--you used to be a lot more receptive to this kind of stuff…” He frowned. "Seems kinda stupid to act the prude now."

Ritsu huffed out a soft _ha?_ of indignation and ran a hand through his hair. "You're really not making any sense Takano-san…" A thought flashed across his mind, and his brows drew together in concern as he prodded, "You're…you're not feeling ill, are you? Because--"

Takano-san released a frustrated grunt and punched the couch cushion, shifting his body weight forward and to the side until he landed nearly on top of Ritsu, forcing him to overbalance and fall backwards, landing with an _oof_ that knocked the breath out of him. "What-- _what are you--_ "

"You _really_ don't remember then, do you?" He was frowning down at Ritsu, his face half-hidden in shadow and backlit by the fluorescent bulbs buzzing above them in the lounge. Ritsu struggled beneath him--or tried to; Takano-san was restraining both arms and straddling his lower body so Ritsu couldn't brace himself for any leverage. It was a very vulnerable position, and given that this guy didn't appear to be the most stable of people, Ritsu was feeling more than a little concerned about what he had planned now that he had Ritsu like this.

"Maybe you remember now?" He leaned down slowly, as if conscious of how easily spooked Ritsu could be and handling him with kid gloves, until their noses nearly brushed and they were almost sharing breath. Ritsu could feel the soft puff against his cheek and lips, warm and humid but shallow; the guy was nervous. "Ritsu."

There it was again--his _name_ , just like last night, that same hesitant, almost _hopeful_ tone. Ritsu swallowed thickly, keeping his voice as calm and level as possible to avoid provoking Takano-san any further and doing his best to sink into the cushions and place more space between them. "…Please stop calling my name like that. It's not professional." Takano-san pulled back, brows knit slightly and tugging together to form a dark furrow between. Ritsu tried to latch onto this and continued, nearly tripping over his own words. "We're in the office; we should use family names and--and honorifics when appropriate. Takano-san."

He raised his brows hopefully, but Takano-san appeared to be having none of it. His frown deepened, and he sounded almost petulant. "…You never used to mind before."

"Eh?" He couldn't help the confused squeak that slipped from his lips, and frantically scoured his mind to try and figure out what the hell the guy was going on about. "Before…wait, last night?"

Takano-san's gaze grew sharp, and before Ritsu could react, he'd leaned down again--giving Ritsu pause to flinch, thinking he was going to be kissed again. But no kiss came, and instead, Takano-san drifted to the side, letting their cheeks brush together as he bent to whisper in his ear, breath tickling the sensitive hairs, "When you lost your virginity in my bed back in high school.”

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, magnanimously offering Ritsu the precious few moments of silence it would take him to put the pieces together--before he snapped back to the present and felt blood rush to his head, turning him beet red as he scrambled back out from under Takano-san, nearly pushing himself off the couch altogether. "S-S-S- _Saga_?!”

Before him, Takano-san raised a calculating brow. "…What happened to the ' _-sempai_ '?" He snorted softly. "You're the one who was going on about polite speech and honorifics and all that crap." Ritsu just continued to stare, flabbergasted, with his mouth opening and closing and no sound coming out, while Takano-san massaged his temples to stave off a headache.

"But--you're--but, _how_." He fisted his hands in his hair, eyes wide and confused. "You're-- _Takano_ , though--!"

Takano-san shifted back over, sitting down properly and letting his head rest against the back of the couch, closing his eyes. "Your squawking's giving me a headache." Ritsu could feel the fight in him rising again, but before he could deliver a sound verbal thrashing, Takano-san continued. "My folks divorced in high school--my mom made me take her name. It's really not that difficult to grasp."

"But--you're…" Ritsu fumbled for words, vision blurring before him. He felt like he'd just been hit with a ton of bricks, his head swimming with memory and fantasy until he couldn't tell which was real and which was just his imagination regressing to age fifteen, his heart filling and skipping a beat because _Saga-sempai_ , Saga-sempai whom he hadn't seen in years was--

"So?"

"Eh?"

" _So?_ " He repeated, voice strained. "Do you remember now?"

Ritsu relaxed a hair, squeezing himself into the small corner of the couch, his lower back starting to ache where he'd crushed his spine along the arm. "I don't…just…" His voice failed him for a moment, mouth going dry, and he licked his lips, trying to keep his voice from quavering. "You're…really…"

Takano-san cracked an eye, then proceeded to roll his gaze, snorting softly at Ritsu's reaction. "You're taking this better than I did."

"Ah--" A light bulb went off. "That's…why last night…" Takano-san nodded shortly, shifting his gaze to the side, and it was hard to miss the slight flush of shame he took on. "But--how did you know…?"

He shrugged ambivalently. "The things you said, about--your fiancee." He winced, as if finding the very word bitter on his tongue. "And--about going overseas to study." Running a hand through his hair, he shook his head. "And with that name…couldn't be a coincidence." Of _course_ it could have--just, with Ritsu's luck, it turned out to be right on target.

He could feel eyes on him and glanced up to find Takano-san staring at him with some undefinable emotion, and he gulped audibly. "I…can't believe you'd remember all of that…" He laughed dryly, trying to inject humor into what had to be an amusing situation, on some level. "It's been--what, ten years? Who remembers things from so long ago--"

"I do." Takano-san responded brusquely, then seemed to realize he'd been short and bit his tongue, huffing in annoyance. "Or rather--I never forgot. It was kind of impossible to forget being kicked out of bed and then abandoned for no reason whatsoever--"

Ritsu bristled in defense. "It--wasn't for _no reason whatsoever--_ "

"Oh--so you _do_ remember?" Ritsu flinched. "…Pathetic."

"I--never said I didn't remember! It just…took a minute to…" He trailed off and shook his head. "Well--it doesn't matter. It's obvious we remember things differently--"

"No, I remember them correctly, and you remember them _in_ correctly."

Ritsu fought rising to the challenge. "--but I think the _important_ thing is to…forget it ever happened. To forget _this_ ever happened." He gestured between them, grateful for even the smallest bit of space separating the two of them now--the last thing he needed was to be pressed up against the nearest solid surface with Takano-san-- _Saga-sempai_ \--bearing down on him, breathing hot and heavy into his ear all the sweet nothings he'd forgotten over the years. "It just…would be for the best. I think."

Takano-san was silent for several long moments, and Ritsu grew even more uncomfortable with the mad buzzing of the lights above them. He'd spoken clearly, hadn't he? He'd somehow managed to piece his thoughts together, jumbled as they were right now, and while he mostly just wanted to curl up into some corner right now to be alone for a long while, to come to grips with this all--he knew he'd done well in making his case.

They weren't teenagers anymore. They were adults with responsibilities, with careers that couldn't spare time for relationships with anyone, let alone old flames from high school. He had Haru-chan, and An-chan--he had an apartment in Sengoku to worry about paying the rent for, he had a monthly bill to Haru-chan's kindergarten to afford. He had a _family_ that was barely hanging together by a thread, he had responsibilities.

So no, no matter how his heart had been in his throat, no matter how even now he just wanted to throw himself forward, to touch and squeeze and _feel_ every inch of Takano-san just in the _hope_ that he wasn't lying, hadn't somehow pulled one over on Ritsu--no matter how much he just wanted to completely give himself over to his emotions right now and forget everything he'd been through, all the pain and betrayal and to just sit here and wrap his arms around the man Saga-sempai had become and never let go because _no he fucking well wasn't over this_ …

He had to be strong. Strong, and resolute. Determined and responsible and thinking about _others_ , not himself. He clenched his fist at his side. "…I'm sorry to have caused this trouble. I didn't realize…" No, it was no one's fault; no need to apologize. "I hope we can continue to--"

Takano-san snapped a hand out, long fingers gripping his wrist tightly where he'd tried to rise from the couch. Ritsu stiffened warily, tugging gently to try and free himself and receiving nothing but resistance. "That's--Onodera, you--"

The atmosphere between them was rent with the loud melodic jingle of a ringtone, a chirpy series of beeps signaling an incoming call, and two pairs of eyes were immediately drawn to Ritsu's back pocket, where he'd slipped his cellphone into his pants earlier.

The fingers on his wrist loosened, and Ritsu glanced up, mouth feeling suddenly dry. "It's…my ex-wife's ring tone." He winced inwardly. "I know we shouldn't take private calls at work, but it's past the time I'm usually home by, and it might be an emer--"

Takano-san shoved the hand away as if he'd been burned, collapsing back against the couch and rubbing his eyes in annoyance. "Just--answer the damned thing and shut it up. That jingle's giving me a headache."

Ritsu didn't know to be grateful or not that he seemed to have reverted back, if even temporarily, to the more familiar tyrannical Takano-san, and he ducked his head in apology and whipped out his cellphone, flipping it open and cradling it to his ear. "H-hello? An-chan?"

 _"Ah--Ricchan?"_ She sounded a bit surprised to have caught him, but not really in any sort of panic, and Ritsu's heart rate slowed. He was overreacting, as usual. _"…Are you still at the office?"_

Ritsu cupped his hand around the receiver and slunk towards the door, headed into the hall. "Yeah--sorry. It's…been a busy day. We only just got finished with our last project." He ruffled his hair, sighing into the receiver. "…I'm really late, aren't I?"

 _"Mmm, pretty late."_ She laughed softly, and Ritsu remembered offhand the way he'd always been comforted by the easy way she forgave him--it was like he could do no wrong in her eyes. _"But--I don't mean to rush you, it's just I was supposed to meet a girlfriend for drinks a half hour ago, and Haru-chan's asleep, but I can't very well leave her here alone, so I thought..."_

Ritsu sighed again, shaking his head even though she couldn't see him. "No--no, I understand completely. I'm just…not very good at working out my schedule yet." He gripped the phone tighter. "I'll--be home as soon as possible? I'll try to leave right now."

 _"All right then--be careful on your way."_

He snapped the phone shut, groaning to himself, and lazily turned on his heel, shuffling back to the lounge--and promptly bumping into Takano-san, who stood purposefully blocking his way, holding Ritsu's bag out in one hand.

"Ah--sorry--" Ritsu started to apologize.

"Your old lady?"

"Eh?"

Takano-san nodded to the phone he still clutched in his hand. "Something happen with your kid?"

"Oh--" He glanced down at the phone and shook his head, brows furrowing. "Just--I'm usually home by now, and An-chan--my wife--"

"Ex-wife," Takano-san corrected sharply, then quickly covered his mouth and glanced away, eyes closed.

Ritsu regarded him warily, nodding. "She…just, I need to go. To watch Haru-chan, so she can leave."

Takano-san released a small grunt of agreement, then raised the bag higher and shook it impatiently, waiting for Ritsu to take it. "Then let's go home."

* * *

It had been bad enough walking home with Takano-san when he was just _Takano-san_. The awkwardness was elevated ten-fold when Ritsu had to remain conscious of the distance between them as they plodded along up the hill around the back streets of Sengoku, knowing that the man hunched down in his coat, hands shoved in his pockets, complaining about the unusually chilly night was in fact the same person Ritsu had pined after for years, had been haunted by for most of his adult life. It certainly didn't _excuse_ Takano-san's actions earlier…but it did explain them.

He kept one eye trained on Takano-san at all times, offering only the bare minimum of conversation and instead retreating into his mind, unable to keep it tethered to the present and instead letting it wander as it would, back through the years--back to those few weeks he'd holed himself up in his room, refusing to come out and turning away his parents' concerned counsel, instead replaying every intimate moment with Saga-sempai in his head and burning into his mind that _I was just a nice fuck_ until he believed it, accepted it.

Deciding to leave Japan had been at once the easiest and most difficult decision he'd ever had to make. An-chan had wept--and his mother had comforted her--and his father had squeezed his shoulder and urged him to come back only when he was ready. Ritsu didn't want to tell them he honestly didn't know if he'd ever want to close the distance between himself and Saga-sempai once he'd gone as far abroad as was possible to go. It was childish, running away like that--but then, Ritsu had been a child.

Now, he was an adult. And he couldn't run away from Takano-san (even if he wanted to). He'd long since made his peace with that chapter of his life, closed it and moved on, and while he'd never felt entirely comfortable with An-chan, most of that was Saga-sempai's fault in the first place, ruining him for any other relationship, rendering Ritsu always wary of giving himself over fully to another for fear of being treated lightly, brushed off as _adorable_ and dropped like a bad habit.

He grit his teeth; no, now was the time to man up and face his past--and move forward. Around it, over it, even _through_ Takano-san if need be. He would not be run off so easily. He could deal with this. He _would_ deal with it.

"Before…"

"Eh?" Ritsu nearly stopped in his tracks, only realizing that Takano-san had started up a new conversation with him that likely required his participation, and he licked his lips where they'd gone dry and chapped in the night breeze. "Ah--sorry?"

"Before…" He hunched lower in his jacket and kept his eyes trained ahead. "You said that--you just wanted us to be coworkers. For us to be…professional, and work together. Like everyone else."

"Ah…" Ritsu hedged; he wasn't quite sure what to say. Was Takano-san trying to get at something? "Well, yes I did say that… I mean, it's the only thing to do, right?" He trailed off, feeling pathetic, and wished that Takano-san would snap at him to stop mumbling, _something_ familiar to keep Ritsu from noting stupid little details like how Takano-san had grown his hair out some since high school, the hairs at the nape of his neck no longer a soft buzzed fuzz but proper little tendrils brushing against the collar of his shirt when he moved.

No such reprobation came, though, and Takano-san just continued to stare ahead as they plodded forward, their building in sight. "I can be professional," he allowed, and Ritsu's heart lightened a fraction--this could _work_ \--until he added, "I've been able to maintain working relationships and business connections with people I've slept with before."

And his heart came crashing back down, landing with a sick thud on top of his stomach and leaving Ritsu feeling queasy for some undefinable reason. He wasn't sure what it meant that the idea of Takano-san having physical relationships with nameless, faceless people tugged at something, irritating him, but he really didn't quite like the implication. To brush off the feeling he offered, "That's--good, I suppose. It shouldn't be a prob--"

"I can be professional." Takano-san cut him off, pausing just before the double doors, punching in his access code. Ritsu stopped behind him, staring at the long line of his back, stiff and waiting. "…But I don't want to be. Not with you."

Ritsu visibly wilted in defeat, watching helplessly as Takano-san strode inside. _Fuck_ , he didn't want to have to deal with this--not tonight. Not _ever_. He just wanted to rewind, to go back twenty-four hours, back to when they were just superior and subordinate and Saga-sempai was a distant, painful memory. He found the strength to force his legs forward, quickly trotting inside after him and calling in a pained, frustrated voice, "Takano-san…!"

The man angrily punched the button to call the elevator, ignoring Ritsu's pleas--which was just fine with Ritsu, as it gave him time to lecture. "Takano-san, _stop_ acting like this, please! Surely you understand that--what's in the past is the past, and we were just kids. It's not as if this should have any bearing on our work relationship--can't you just--"

Takano-san slammed a fist into the faux marble wall, and Ritsu only now caught his face, a torn, pained expression fighting for a place on his features. "Just--shut up."

"…Takano-san…"

And then he whirled on Ritsu, shaking a finger in his face. "You--maybe _you_ were fine just running off overseas and leaving all your problems behind. Maybe that worked out really nicely for you, being able to start over. But me? I had to sit around for ten-- _ten_ \--years wondering what the hell I'd done wrong that the one person I ever thought might have genuinely cared about me despite my shitty upbringing would drop me like that."

The car dinged its arrival, and Takano-san stormed on, crossing his arms and leaning against the back of the car, head tilted up to the ceiling so Ritsu couldn't properly see his face. The doors started to close before Ritsu had regained use of his faculties, thrown off by the uncharacteristic outburst, and he quickly scrambled on, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other and avoiding looking at Takano-san in the cramped car. He swallowed thickly. "I…I didn't mean to--"

"Seriously, Onodera. Shut up."

Ritsu bristled, ire rising. "Wh--why? It's not as if this is just your problem. I have legitimate complaints too; I was hurt _too_ you realize!" He quailed under Takano-san's gaze when the man directed a hard glare at him, as if daring him to say another word.

"You were hurt? Well I'm _fucking sorry_ then that you're an idiot who couldn't read between the lines to see how much someone cared for you and just dropped them because you got tired of them or some crap." The elevator slowed to a staggering stop at the twelfth floor, opening to let them spill into the hallway. Takano-san stalked forward, and Ritsu stupidly reached out a hand to grab the edge of his jacket and keep him from avoiding putting a firm end to this.

Takano-san whirled around at the action, bracing one hand flat against Ritsu's chest and shoving him back against the wall, not entirely roughly, but certainly not comfortably. Ritsu squirmed but quickly fell limp when Takano-san pressed in on him, bringing their faces close but without any of the tension from before, his face now only cold and pained.

"So what--now you’re back, and just waltzing into my office? And you think after all the crap you pulled before that I'll be fine with sitting next to you every day like nothing happened? Like you didn't _ruin_ me?" He snorted, a derisive huff devoid of any mirth. "You’ve got to be fucking with me."

He drew himself up and pulled back a hair, raking his gaze over Ritsu for good measure. "Fine. You can be professional all you want: do your job--and do it well--and then run along home and play daddy and try to keep your life together. I don't care." He reached up and dusted a bit of fluff from Ritsu's jacket, patting the lapels down neatly. "You can sit there and pretend that you haven’t been just as confused and messed up for the past ten years as I have, that's your prerogative." He then grabbed the lapels firmly in both hands and dropped his voice. "But I refuse.”

Ritsu swallowed thickly, breath coming in short pants as Takano pressed in until their noses were almost touching. His voice was deep and cold and full of deadly promise that Ritsu didn't doubt one iota--and he hated the shiver that echoed through him at their closeness, a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with _warmth_.

"I’m not going to forget. And I’m not going to let _you_ forget either. I’m going to pursue you--because I finally have a chance again at the one thing that ever meant anything in my life--until you give me one good reason not to."

He then slid one hand up to cup Ritsu's jaw in his palm, holding him firmly in place as he leaned in to press their lips together, quickly sliding his tongue along the seam of Ritsu's lips and pressing for entrance--which Ritsu's traitorous body granted, letting Saga-sempai in again like he'd simply been waiting to be asked all these years. Ritsu grunted, a soft cry of protest that was lost somewhere between the heated exchange as Takano-san stroked his tongue against Ritsu's and suckled lightly on his bottom lip before pulling back, seemingly satisfied with the state he'd left Ritsu in: a disheveled mess and looking thoroughly debauched. An-chan would have a fit.

Ritsu lay boneless and breathing hard, grateful for the wall behind him to hold him up as Takano-san wiped a finger across his lip and stared at it, before offering Ritsu a final glance and turning on his heel, sliding his key home and disappearing into 1201.

What a day.


	4. Chapter 4

Frowns were becoming a permanent fixture on Ritsu's face lately, and today's had arrived particularly early--as immediately upon opening his door and shuttling Haru-chan out into the hall, he'd been faced with an expressionless Takano-san, just watching the two of them blithely where he stood casually relaxing against a faux marble pillar across the hall.

At the sound of their door opening, he quickly snapped shut the cell phone he'd been glancing at and slipped it into his coat pocket, straightening up but saying nothing. Ritsu released a soft huff of surprise when he noticed him before quickly turning around and busying himself with the lock, urging Haru-chan to wait for him before heading to the elevator today.

He could feel Takano-san's gaze on his back, heavy and imposing for more reasons than one, and he sternly ordered his heart to slow its frantic pace and beat at a normal rhythm because there was nothing to be said or done, Takano-san had just...gotten out of hand the previous evening. It was certainly understandable, and Ritsu wouldn't lie and say he hadn't been more than a bit shocked as well to find out that his next-door neighbor was...probably one of the people he'd never be able to forget as long as he lived.

But what did he need to forget? Not forgetting didn't mean you couldn't move on, couldn't leave them behind and put them aside to remember fondly (or less than fondly) in your off hours when you _weren't_ drowning in work or trying to balance a career and family.

"Morning, Haru-chan," came an easy voice from behind, and Ritsu stiffened, glancing around frantically for his daughter--only to find her staring up at Takano-san with wary (but decidedly curious) eyes and clinging to the hem of Ritsu's coat, tugging softly as if waiting for permission to respond.

He rolled his eyes and sighed softly, patting her head. "Go on."

She placed her hands primly in front and executed a small bow, repeating robotically, "Good morning." She cocked her head. "Umm..."

"Takano-san," Ritsu supplied through grit teeth, and she repeated the name to the best of her ability (though it came out sounding more like _Takassan_ in the end), glancing back and forth between him and her father. Ritsu slipped his key into his bag and cupped a hand at the back of her head, guiding her forward. "Come on--we'll be late."

Behind them, Takano-san pushed off of the wall and traipsed after them, closer this time and leaning around furtively to try and catch Haru-chan's wandering eye even as Ritsu did his best to keep her focused.

Waiting for the elevator, he got bolder. "So you're Onodera's kid huh..." At this, they both turned to glance at him. "How old are you?"

She didn't wait for permission this time, apparently taking Ritsu's earlier allowance as carte blanche to use Takano-san as a sounding board for her babbling. "Five..."

Ritsu watched the pair with guarded interest, tugging on Haru-chan's hand when the elevator arrived and interrupted her response to Takano-san's next question of, "Do you like school?" Inane questions, all of them, but small talk appropriate for a little girl. There was nothing untoward about any of it--save that Ritsu didn't like that it was coming from Takano-san. Simple professional propriety was all that was keeping him from giving the guy what-for.

The conversation continued inside the elevator and followed them through the front lobby and out the main doors, until by the time they'd rounded the corner at the intersection nearest the kindergarten, Haru-chan had grown comfortable in conversing with Takano-san, and he himself had relaxed visibly and seemed to be almost _enjoying_ discussing what were appropriate and inappropriate ways to approach eating foods you didn't like. "An'--an' Daddy's taking me to the _park_ this weekend, and we're gonna have a picnic, and I get to choose what we bring, so definitely no _carrots_ \--"

Ritsu's heart froze in his chest, and Haru-chan nearly stumbled into him where she skipped along just behind him when he immediately stopped in his tracks. "Eh-- _Daddy_ what're you doing?"

"My my..." He could hear the superior drawl in Takano-san's voice, a knowing tone creeping in as he strode around to place himself just inside Ritsu's field of vision. "A _picnic_ , you say? That sounds like an awful lot of fun, Haru-chan. Doesn't it, Onodera?"

"Indeed," he responded through grit teeth, picking up his pace again and jerking Haru-chan forward as he hunkered down further in his coat. Great, just _great_. Time to change the subject. "Na, Haru-chan? How's that flower pot you painted coming? Any progress?"

Haru-chan opened her mouth to respond, but Takano-san interrupted again. "I'll bet there are already some flowers blooming even though it's early in the season--maybe even some early sakura. And it's supposed to be warm this weekend--sounds like perfect picnic weather to me. Right, Haru-chan?"

"Yup!" She beamed up at the both of them, skipping ahead as far as she could go while still holding Ritsu's hand before waiting for him to catch up, and then repeating the game. "And we'll make bentous, and bring a blanket to sit on, and play games, and--lotsa stuff!" Her eyes got big and her mouth made a little _o_. "Takassan should come too!"

Ritsu squeezed her hand tighter than he'd meant to reflexively before immediately releasing it and raising his arms in protest. "Ah--ahahaha, ah no, no I'm sure that wouldn't be poss--no. That's--" He shook his head firmly before squatting down to eye level with her. "Takano-san's a busy man, Haru-chan. We can't keep bothering him like this; he has lots of important work to--"

"Sounds like fun."

"..." Ritsu held his breath, counting in his head to keep himself from raising his voice in front of his daughter. It took all his strength to keep his tone even as he eased himself back into a standing position and tried to address his boss with as much politeness as he could muster just now. "I... _appreciate_ the gesture, but really. This is something I've had planned for a while, and I hardly get to spend much time alone with Haru-chan these days, so...if you wouldn't mind granting us our privacy?"

Takano-san's face was expressionless, eyes shifting from Ritsu to Haru-chan and back again, before he blinked slowly and shoved his hands into his pockets, sighing loudly in defeat. Ritsu felt his breath return and a weight rise from his shoulders--until Takano-san continued, "Yeah, no. I definitely want to go even more now."

* * *

It was only after they'd safely seen off Haru-chan for the day and rounded the corner again, headed back towards the station to catch the subway to work, that Ritsu worked up the nerve to speak his mind, lining up his thoughts neatly in his head before sending them tumbling down upon Takano-san. "I was serious before."

"Hm? About what?" Coy didn't suit him in the _least_.

"About--the _picnic_."

"Ah. I was, too. What time are we going?"

" _We're_ not going anywhere." He stopped in place and whirled around on his heel, feeling the hairs at the back of his neck rise in irritation. "Please--don't come, all right? Haru-chan's young, and she seems to have...gotten attached to you for some reason--"

"Maybe it's genetic."

"-- _and so_ I didn't want to do this in front of her but _please_. This is..." He coughed to keep his voice from taking on that desperate tone that it liked to take when Saga-sempai had stared at him, something the years apart hadn't apparently tempered. Why was it he couldn't keep himself together, whether it was before Saga or before Takano-san? "I never get to spend time with her now, and even though she'll never say she regrets it or feels bad about it or anything, it's just something you know. As a parent." He forced his eyes up to lock gazes with Takano-san, steeling himself. "So I want to make it up to her. I can't be--coddling you or paying attention to you just because you're my boss. I want to spend time with _Haru-chan_ , not _you_. You _have_ to let your employees have their private time; we can't just _work work work_ all the time, so--"

"Why on earth would you be discussing work on a picnic? You're weird, Onodera." He brushed past Ritsu and continued walking, and Ritsu jogged to catch up, fists clenched at his sides.

"Well--why _else_ would you want to come to the park with us?!"

A shrug. "Because I want to spend time with her. And because I want to spend time with _you_. Two birds with one stone."

Ritsu stared at his back for a long while, muttering under his breath, "...What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

* * *

Saturday came all too quickly, and since that argument, Takano-san hadn't brought up the notion of accompanying Ritsu and Haru-chan to the park again, leaving him with the faintest of faint hopes that perhaps, maybe, possibly he'd forgotten, or it had all been an elaborate joke to begin with.

He snapped a plastic lid onto the second of two small, rectangular boxes and stuffed them snugly into a carrying bag with a frown. He'd hesitated-- _hesitated_ \--when preparing these bentous the previous evening, and that was unacceptable. Not the hesitation in and of itself, but the reason: there was no need for him to _hesitate_ when trying to determine just how many boxed lunches to bring to their picnic, because it was only going to be _two_. It had been two to begin with, and it would be two to end with, regardless of Takano-san's presence. He would do his best to ignore the man who'd all but forced his way into this outing (and Ritsu was cursing the fact that he was still holding onto the hope that the guy would forget), being polite but restrained, and he would _enjoy_ himself, dammit. Takano-san or no.

There was no need to go out of his way and _encourage_ the guy by packing him a lunch; if he wanted to eat while crashing their picnic, he could bring his own damn food.

...Ritsu wound up packing a small plastic bag of trail mix anyways.

After managing to round up Haru-chan and shushing her excitement out of worry that Takano-san might hear them banging about next door and recall at the last minute that they'd had plans today, he checked that she'd properly bundled herself up, wrapped her snuggly in a bright red scarf, and motioned to her to slip on her wool-lined boots because it had drizzled the previous evening and the ground was likely still a bit soft in most areas of the park.

Once they'd both finished their final preparations, Ritsu took a deep breath and closed his eyes, listening intently for the muffled sound of Takano-san moving about next door. Nothing--only silence and the impatient wrigglings of his five-year-old. She eventually reached her limit and tugged on his coat. "What're we waiting for?"

He shook his head, keeping his voice soft just in case. "Nothing--just a little tired is all. You ready?" A firm nod, and he took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. With a final sigh, he reached for the door handle and pushed out into the hallway--

\--nearly running right into Takano-san who had apparently been about to knock on their door at the same time. "Oi--watch it!"

"I--sorry--wait, _Takano-san_?!"

The man took two steps back, giving Ritsu and Haru-chan a wide berth as they shuffled out of the apartment. He ignored the glare Ritsu was floating his way and instead crouched down onto one knee to put himself at eye-level with Haru-chan. "Morning. Ready for the park?"

She nodded exaggeratedly, holding up their lunch bags Ritsu had entrusted to her when she'd pouted that she was big enough to take care of the parcel. "Daddy made us bentous!"

Takano-san's brows flew up into the fringe of hair hanging in his eyes, and he glanced Ritsu's way knowingly. "Did he now? For all of us?"

"For _Haru-chan and me_ , since this was supposed to be a private affair." He angrily locked the door, slipping his keys into his pocket and reaching out to tug on the hood of Haru-chan's jumper. "Come on, Haru-chan. We'll want to get a good place for our picnic, and it's a bit of a trek."

Takano-san fell in line behind them, looking far too confident and put together for Ritsu's comfort. "You're taking the train?"

"You were expecting us to _walk_ to Shinjuku Gyoen?" He punched the elevator button, and then pressed it a few more times for good measure.

"I'll drive us."

"Hah?" Ritsu whirled around, brows furrowed. "You have a car?"

"No, I just thought I'd suggest it." He snorted. "Of course I have one. Take the elevator down the B1--that's the garage."

Ritsu wavered--for only a moment. "…We'll be fine on the train. It's better exercise walking anyways."

"Don't be ridiculous. Let me drive you."

He was resolute, pulling Haru-chan in behind him when the elevator dinged its arrival and hastily pressing the button for the lobby, cursing when Takano-san barely made it on after them. "It's not very good for the environment, driving about in a car when it's perfectly easy to reach the location by public transportation." He shook Haru-chan's hand for her attention and directed his comment to her, "Always be eco-friendly, na?"

She nodded weakly, then cocked her head. "Takassan has a car?"

"I do." He lifted his brows, impressed with himself. "Wanna go for a ride?"

"Yeah!" Ignoring her father's earlier protests, she tugged on his hand impatiently. "It's fine, right Daddy? Takassan says we can go with him in his car!"

 _I heard…_ he wanted to groan, catching the superior look of victory splashed across Takano-san's features. Sighing loudly, he reached forward and punched B1.

* * *

Unwanted company aside, it was a perfect day for a picnic. The sunlight was bright and warm, perfectly balancing out the pleasant breeze that reminded everyone that a little bit of winter was still hanging around, keeping all but the hardiest of blossoms still tucked away in their buds. Still, there were a few bushes of early spring flowers sprouting proudly against the nip that lingered in the air, and Haru-chan took great joy in running up to all that she could find and inhaling sharply, describing the scent in a unintelligible babbled stream that not even Ritsu could muster the strength to keep up with. To his credit, at least, Takano-san seemed to be doing better, reading aloud descriptions on placards that she pointed out scattered across the footpath they'd been walking along.

When she'd finally tired herself out, complaining loudly that her feet were tired barely fifteen minutes in and well before they'd circled around back to the picnic area of the park, Takano-san slipped forward and scooped her up, carrying her first in a princess hold before shifting her around to sit up tall and proper, setting her to squealing excitedly after a worried _whoooaaa_. Ritsu frowned, arms held out weakly before himself where he'd meant to carry her himself, and he felt anger prickling behind his eyes in frustration. This guy was _not_ supposed to be ingratiating himself with Ritsu's daughter like this.

When they managed to find a patch of dry grass, Ritsu pulled his bag around front and lifted it over one shoulder, setting it down at his feet and pulling out the old blanket he'd brought for them to sit on. Shaking it out violently to unfold it, he frowned when Takano-san grabbed the other ends and helped him to spread it neatly before them. The guy caught his scowl and just rolled his eyes, though, as if to say _that's not gonna work on me_ , which was more frustrating than the initial reason for the scowl had been.

Haru-chan gently pulled out their bentous from her bag, unsnapping the tops and passing Ritsu a pair of plastic chopsticks before pressing her palms together and giving an excited _itadakimasu!_ Ritsu watched her dig into her lunch in proud silence, shaking his head at her innocent joy in such a simple activity, before he was jolted back to the present when he felt a shoulder brush his own as Takano-san reached in and picked up the umeboshi in the middle of his rice with his fingers, popping it into his mouth and making a face at the sour punch it gave.

Ritsu opened his mouth to protest the unhygienic--and impolite--gesture, but then smirked in triumph at the man receiving his comeuppance for the stunt. "Serves you right."

"Gimme some of the rice--that was horrible."

"Are you even Japanese? Why would you just pop an umeboshi into your mouth like that? Should I get you a stick of wasabi to suck on, too?"

"Wanted to tease you," he groused, irritatingly honest, and he frowned when Ritsu twisted his body away from him, removing the bentou from his reach. " _Oi_ , come on."

Ritsu jerked his head to Haru-chan's bag. "There's--carrot sticks in there."

Takano-san raised a brow. "Haru-chan hates carrots."

Ritsu flushed and shoveled his rice into his mouth to avoid responding, choking when the mouthful proved difficult to swallow even with a healthy swig of green tea. Thankfully, Takano-san let it pass without comment and just reached for the bag to root around in it until he found the ziploc Ritsu had been referring to.

Haru-chan quickly wolfed down her bentou and began to piece through the bag herself while Takano-san did a fabulous impression of a rabbit, gnawing on the carrot sticks Ritsu had thrown in, and her eyes lit up when she managed to unearth the bag of sugared walnuts Ritsu had packed for dessert, offering one to Takano-san while she tossed two into her own mouth.

He bowed gallantly and took the proffered nut, tossing it into his mouth with proficiency and grinning roguishly when she giggled excitedly at the feat. Holding his hand out for another, he then proceeded to wow her with rather elementary magic tricks that likely only worked on Haru-chan because she so desperately wanted to believe that _Takassan_ (god, he was never going to get her to stop that, was he?) was magic apparently.

To his utter shock, he even managed to get her to nibble on one of the carrot sticks just by playing it up as a challenge she surely couldn't handle. After some back and forth, she'd eventually snatched the bag out of his hand and bitten off the end of one with affected irritation, tossing her nose into the air with a loud _hmph_ , as if to say _guess that showed you!_ It seemed Takano-san was adept at stringing any Onodera along with such tactics--father or daughter.

Catching Ritsu watching them, Takano-san smoothly reached forward to pick up a nearly empty water bottle they'd been sharing, shaking it in Haru-chan's direction and nodding to a tap just up a small footpath. "Go fill this up for us? Unless you're not big enough to do it on your own--"

She snatched it with lightning reflexes. "I'm big enough, more than big enough!" But just to be sure, she tossed Ritsu a look, brows raised, and he waved his hand for permission. "Be right back!"

Ritsu shook his head, watching her trot away on her mission, then favored Takano-san with a side-long glance, wary. "You're pretty good with kids."

Takano-san shrugged in response, modest. "Just trying to make a good impression on her dad is all." He pulled up one leg to his chest, crossing his arms and resting them on his knee. "…So are you falling for me yet?"

Ritsu scoffed, chest tightening uncomfortably when Takano-san raised his eyebrows suggestively, and he busied himself with snapping the lids on the now empty bentou boxes, stuffing them back into the little pack Haru-chan had toted for them. "Hardly," he snapped, irritated, and added for good measure, "And I'm not planning on it. I _told_ you that I--"

"Baaaack~!" Haru-chan sang as she stumbled into their conversation, waving the water bottle above her head in pride. "See? Told ya~"

"I suppose you showed me," Takano-san allowed, bowing his head in defeat, before rolling over onto his knees and then stumbling unsteadily to his feet on half-numb legs. "Come on--let your papa pack up everything; I saw some kids your age playing _onigokko_."

* * *

Ritsu glanced over his shoulder, lips pursed as he watched Haru-chan's head loll to the side with the bumps in the road, snoozing contentedly after a long day of play. They'd lingered in the park until closing time, wandering around and taking in the sights, letting Haru-chan bully Ritsu into taking her picture with every fascinating bug she found or pretty flower she came upon, and whenever the walking grew too tiresome, she was but one tug of a coat away from Takano-san lifting her up again, this time in his arms, this time on his shoulders, leaving Ritsu little recourse but to sit back and watch the guy coddle his way into Ritsu's life further and further. Seeing his daughter now slumbering away on a makeshift booster seat in the backseat of Takano-san's car…it wasn't a sight he wanted to grow accustomed to, even if it seemed awfully _domestic_.

He shifted around to face front again, the silence between them lulling him to sleep. He blinked a few times rapidly to wake himself up, breaking the tension with a soft, "…Thanks. For today."

"Hm?"

"I said--I mean, it was kind of you to drive us to the park--" _Even though I didn't want you to_ "--and Haru-chan obviously had a good time," _but she's a child and she didn't have her heart broken by you._ He twisted in his seat to stare out the window at the bright lights of the Tokyo night flashing by. Best to keep up a professional front. "I'm sure you're busy and all, and you had other things you could've been doing on your day off, but--"

"Geez," Takano-san scoffed, snorting derisively. "Can the work talk and stop being so damned thick." Ritsu twisted back around, brows furrowed. "You're acting like this was some huge inconvenience for me and not something I did because _I wanted to_ \--" He gave Ritsu a sidelong glance, "--which it was." Ritsu grew uncomfortable and tried to settled further against the seat, leaning into the door, and Takano-san sighed."…You could've just told me not to come if you didn't want me to."

Ritsu felt his face heat up with anger. "What the--I _tried_ to tell you not to--"

"Keep your voice down," he chided evenly, but his eyes were hard where they watched the road. "I told you last night exactly what you need to do to get me to leave you alone." Ritsu flashed back involuntarily to the night before, flushing and glancing away, and Takano-san snorted again at the silent treatment. "What, you think I'm not serious?"

And this was enough. "Who _would_ think you were serious?" he snapped, tossing an angry glance over his shoulder. "You're--one person at work and another person in private, you feed my daughter edamame and show her magic tricks, and then you give me a pile of manuscripts to review five minutes before you know I'm planning to leave for the day _to go home and see that same daughter_." He twisted in place and strained against the seatbelt, shaking a finger. "You treated me--back then, in high school, you treated me like an annoying little pest you just _humored_ and then gave me a complex and now you just--expect me to fall into your arms like it was nothing? Just fall for you all over again?!"

The silence was deafening, broken only by Ritsu's loud breathing, and in the back of his mind he knew he was only rising to Takano-san's challenge, that none of his lecture would be heeded and was simply falling on deaf ears. Guys like him only heard what they wanted.

The car lurched beneath him as they pulled into the lot beneath the apartment building, the low garage ceiling dotted with fluorescent lights that flickered occasionally as Takano-san pulled into an empty spot.

"No, then. No, I _don't_ think you're serious. I think you're just--a bully. And that maybe you need to get laid and think I'll do just because I had a crush on you in _high school_ , which I'll remind you was ten years ago." The car pulled to a stop with a heavy screech, and Ritsu fumbled with the latch to his belt clumsily, desperate to get out and put some distance between them.

His fingers were chilly and had little luck getting a grip on the hook--and in his confusion, he missed the telltale shift in body weight and shadow over his face as Takano-san reached forward with all the grace Ritsu lacked and snapped a hand behind his head to pull them close, pressing his lips forcibly over Ritsu's own and thrusting a tongue between them, managing a few desperate strokes and pulling a whine from Ritsu before he found himself shoved away violently.

"Stop _doing_ that!" He angrily wiped at his mouth with the back of one hand. "And--stop doing _this_." Without clarification, it was clear he meant their entire day spent at the park, an outing meant to help Ritsu renew the bonds with his daughter that had grown strained with starting his new job but which had been utterly ruined by Takano-san's insistence to tag along and inability to accept that he was no longer a welcome part of Ritsu's life.

"I'm not teasing you." Takano-san's voice was even, but it was a tentative tone, like one wrong move and he could be tipped over into desperation. "And--fine. Maybe you're right." He shook his head. "Maybe I need to get laid." He stared blankly ahead. "…But that's not why I'm doing this. I _told_ you--"

"Thank you for today," Ritsu grunted, through with hearing the guy's explanations, and he finally managed to free himself from the seat. He reached into the floorboard to grab his bag. "But--I really need to get Haru-chan into b--"

" _Ritsu._ " He froze, clenching his eyes shut and cursing his body for responding to that voice, to his name on those lips, with abject obedience, stilling his attempts to remove himself and his daughter to their apartment. Takano-san leaned forward to force Ritsu to face him. "Would you stop struggling like an idiot and listen to me straight?" Ritsu breathed heavily through his nose, flushed and angry but meeting Takano-san's gaze nonetheless. If this was what it took to put him off, so be it. Takano-san pursed his lips after a moment and muttered, defeated, "…Fine."

He shifted back and stared forward again, leaving Ritsu wary and confused but still edging towards the door. "…'Fine'?"

He gripped the wheel, flexing and relaxing his fingers in an even rhythm to keep the blood pumping; it was chilly now that the engine was off. "What do I have to do?"

Ritsu's brows furrowed deeply, irritation building at the enigmatic way the guy was speaking. "I don't…"

"I've never--just, I don't _do_ this."

"Do _what_?"

Takano-san closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the headrest. "Try to seduce people who don't want me." Ritsu flushed at the implication and at the ego. "So…chances are I suck at it."

"There's an understatement." The snippy remark was out of his mouth before Ritsu could stop himself, and he raised a hand to cover it--but too slowly, for Takano-san shifted around and loomed over him.

"So--tell me what I need to do then. How do I get you? If you think I'm going about it the wrong way, if this is only driving you further away then _tell me_ how to do it right!"

Ritsu let a beat of silence pass between them before blinking once slowly and then rolling his eyes, fighting a sneer. "You _don't_. At all." He pointed to a side door leading to a stairwell headed up to the front lobby. "You go back to your apartment, and I go to mine with Haru-chan, and we try to forget this and anything we ever did together." His voice took on a sorrowful edge that he hoped Takano-san didn't notice. "We try to live our separate lives and be happy. That's what we do."

Takano-san's eyes opened slowly, staring up at the ceiling. "…And what if I can't?" Ritsu ignored him, reaching for his bag again. "What if I can't be happy without you then?"

Ritsu snorted, pulling his bag into his lap and rifling through it to ensure nothing had fallen out. "Melodrama doesn't suit you, Takano-san."

"Being married doesn't suit _you_ ," he sniped back grumpily, and Ritsu didn't bother to suppress the bark of laughter, casting a worried glance over his shoulder at Haru-chan.

He shook his head. "Are you _jealous_ , Takano-san?"

Rather than rising to the bait as Ritsu was sure a proud man such as himself would, Takano-san instead latched onto a different tack. "You lied--to yourself, to that pretty little fiancee of yours, to your parents. You lied to them all just to please them, and then thought maybe you could have your cake and eat it too with me--"

"That wasn't--" Ritsu started, voice failing him, and he grit his teeth in frustration. "I _told_ them I didn't want to marry An-chan! I didn't love _her_ , not like that! Not like I loved--"

"…Daddy?" A weary voice called from the back seat, and Ritsu twisted around to glance over his shoulder again, expression softening when Haru-chan blinked blearily at him. "'re we home…?"

Ritsu nodded a few times, lowering his voice. "Let's get you to bed, come on." Neither she nor Takano-san said anything to the contrary.

Casting a warning glance to Takano-san that dared him to try and carry Haru-chan up to the apartment, he gingerly worked her out of her seat and into his arms, treating her heaviness as a welcome burden. Takano-san grabbed both his bag as well as the small lunch bag Haru-chan had been in charge of, and while Ritsu didn't much like him doing so, the fact remained that he needed a bit of help in that respect, and so he allowed the gesture.

Maneuvering their way to the 12th floor and working open Ritsu's door, they gingerly padded inside, Ritsu only allowing Takano-san to follow out of distaste for waking Haru-chan again. It was a chore, getting her into her little futon and stripping her of her outerwear as much as was possible without rousing her, but eventually she was as ready for bed as she was going to get, and Ritsu decided they'd take care of the rest in the morning, kissing her forehead and sneaking back out into the living room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Takano-san was sitting on the couch, having obviously not taken the hint that he should leave after dropping off their bags. But--looking at the guy slouched dejectedly as he was, Ritsu couldn't summon up the strength to foist him from the spot he seemed to have taken to.

In the dim light, he didn't notice at first, but as he drew close, he noticed the guy was actually _smiling_ , albeit faintly. "Wh-what?" he bristled defensively.

Takano-san shook his head. "…Just, it's my first time in your place." He slumped back against the couch and let his head rest on the back. "…I'm happy."

Ritsu rolled his eyes but suppressed a comment, instead shuffling closer to him, shifting nervously from side to side and feeling far more awkward than was appropriate. "…I'm sorry, for earlier." He swallowed. Now that they'd both calmed down, with a clearer head he was starting to reflect that it was probably not a terribly good idea to get into an argument with his boss like that. "It wasn't…polite, or professional at all, to speak to you like that."

Takano-san winced, as if the apology hurt more than the argument itself had, but gave no apology of his own, instead staring up at the ceiling in thought. "All you have to do…"

"Eh?" He couldn't quite catch his words, so softly were they spoken.

"All you have to do," he repeated, "Is give me one good reason why we can't be together." He forced his head up and forward to stare at Ritsu blankly. "Give me a reason, and I'll leave you alone. We can be work colleagues just like you claim you want."

He expertly ignored the _claim_ jab, and snorted. "Okay--fine. How about _because we're not in love_?"

Takano-san just frowned, like the response didn't agree with him. "You loved me before."

"That was _ten years ago_ ," he reminded, tone long-suffering. "We've both changed since then. Rather a lot."

Takano-san lowered his gaze to stare at his hands, flexing his fingers into a fist, and then shifted his body weight to push himself into a standing position, circling round the low table between them to stand before Ritsu. He cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow in uncertainty. "…I loved you back then, you know." He raised one hand slowly and brushed a strand of hair behind Ritsu's ear, as he stood frozen. "…I think I could fall for you again now."

The spell was broken, and Ritsu batted the hand away. "Then that makes one of us." He glanced up and saw a flash of pain across the man's face. Feeling a stab of guilt splinter through him, he consciously gentled his words but kept the content the same. "…I _really_ don't want to get involved, Takano-san. With anyone. I just--want to be a good father, to do my job well, and to be able to enjoy my days off _without_ being subjected to unwanted attentions." It was a logical argument; perhaps reason could save him.

"…You used to be such a romantic." No such luck.

"I was a stupid kid," he snapped.

"I liked that about you." And here, Ritsu's heart got the ridiculous idea to start beating a bit faster, raising his pulse and sending a flush to his cheeks and neck and ears--and groin. The longer they were alone like this together, the harder it grew to differentiate these two men, Saga and Takano. It was impossible to forget about Saga and all they'd done together when he was standing here right in front of him, bold and beautiful and earnest yet still with that quiet frailty that had so fascinated Ritsu. "Look at you--you used to not even be able to look me in the eye. And now you're telling me you _just want to be co-workers_? That you don't want to fall in love, you only want to worry about your daughter?" He snorted. "Haru-chan's adorable, but I'm sorry: you're full of shit."

Ritsu groaned, "It'd be a _lot easier_ to do just that if you'd stop bringing it up at every opportunity and going on about _used to be_ and _before_ and talking about the past!"

"I wouldn't _have_ to keep bringing it up if you'd just face it!"

"I don't want to face it!" He bit his tongue, conscious that he was being louder than he should be in the small apartment--not just for Haru-chan, but for the neighbors as well. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "...It was hard enough getting this far. Why would I _ever_ want to go back and get hurt again?"

He couldn't see the man before him, but he could hear the desperate wonder in his voice. "...Why would you automatically assume you'd get hurt?" And that prodding question alone somehow grated more than the constant reminders of their past. Takano-san's voice turned peevish, audibly getting fed up with this conversation. "We were-- _god_ , we were teenage brats! My family life was utter crap; my parents were in the middle of a nasty divorce, and I honestly don't even know how I got through every day. I don't know _what_ was going on with you, but...seriously, it wasn't like it ever could've _gone_ anywhere. We were in a little bubble--but that was ten years ago." Ritsu felt a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place, and he tensed reflexively. "I've picked myself up and I've got a satisfying job I'm told I'm pretty damn good at. And you're...I dunno, trying to reinvent yourself or some crap." The hand fell away. "How is now not the _best_ time to--try and fix the mistakes we made before?" Ritsu kept his eyes firmly clamped shut. If he opened them, he'd break. He could hear Takano-san breathing heavily in front of him. "...You still love me."

Ritsu scoffed. "Right."

"You divorced that fiancee of yours. Or--wife, whatever."

That was too much--and Ritsu opened his eyes, incredulous. "What? And you think that was--because of _you_? Because I couldn't get over you? And not because, oh I don't know, I got married too young to someone I had never--even before I met you--seen in a romantic light?" He tossed his head and crossed his arms. "You're awfully full of yourself, Takano-sa--"

His voice fell away when Takano-san stepped closer, looming over him and holding him by the shoulders, glaring down at him. Ritsu was left with the distinct reminder that they _were_ boss and subordinate, and Takano-san could very easily make his work life a living hell if he spoke out of turn just once.

"...You were never this full of shit before, you know," he groused, voice rough and low, and continued after licking his lips. "You used to be--so _stupidly_ , _annoyingly_ honest and open, and _everything_ about you was written on your face." He slid one hand up Ritsu's neck, palming his jaw and brushing a thumb against his cheek. Ritsu summoned all his energy not to bat the hand away, feeling the touch like a brand. "...You loved me back then."

"I never said I didn't," he reminded, voice weakening, then he pushed a cold edge to it, adding, "Only that I don't now."

Takano-san swallowed thickly. "...Maybe you could."

"Maybe, yeah..." He shifted his weight, taking a measured step backwards, and held his hand out towards the door. "Please leave, Takano-san."

For several long moments, there was silence, with Takano-san eying him coolly and sizing him up. Ritsu held his ground on the outside, but inside he was praying that the man didn't press the matter any further. He was quickly running out of witty retorts, and Takano-san had always been a master at tearing him down.

Blessedly, he shook his head and brushed past Ritsu, spitting out as he did so, "You need to get better at lying."

Ritsu couldn't help but agree--otherwise, they were going to have a problem.


	5. Chapter 5

Somewhere between his starting at Marukawa and now, Ritsu was sure, the weekends had somehow been shortened drastically, because this was the only logical explanation for how both Saturday and Sunday had screamed by without notice, leaving him standing in his genkan this Monday morning helping Haru-chan put on her backpack and ensuring that her ponytail sat at the appropriate height on her head for her approval. Her brown locks bounced around as she excitedly regaled him with her schedule for the week, and he sighed to himself, recognizing that it sounded worlds more exciting than his own schedule.

Both to his relief and discomfort, Takano-san hadn't tried to contact him since the picnic on Saturday. Relief, because there was only so much of the guy he could handle, and that amount was exactly the amount he put up with during the week. Any more and it grew painful, constricting, feeling like all the emotions from the past ten years were pressing down on his chest, hoping to force him into some _relationship_ he'd sooner cut off his dominant hand than stumble back into.

The discomfort, though, came from the fact that…it seemed almost too easy. A few snapped retorts, and that was it? Takano-san was through with him and had moved on? Or was he just biding his time, gathering the figurative troops and preparing for a second wave, this time sure to pull Ritsu under and drag him back into the confusing hot mess that had been their few weeks together in high school?

He took a deep breath and pushed out the door--

\--and Takano-san was not there. He was not leaning, relaxed against the pillar across the way, he was not checking his cell phone and tapping his foot impatiently, griping at Ritsu for being five minutes later than usual, he wasn't squatting down to eye-level with Haru-chan and tugging on her ponytail, idly commenting that her daddy missed his calling as a stylist because she looked beautiful.

He cast a furtive glance over at 1201, listening cautiously for signs of life, before hastily shuttling Haru-chan down the hall to the elevator.

The lobby was equally dead, most of the office workers in their building having headed out already to beat the morning rush that Ritsu seemed to not quite have gotten the hang of yet. Takano-san was not waiting by his mailbox, nor was he waiting outside the front doors having a smoke. He wasn't picking up a breakfast sandwich when they passed the conbini, and he hadn't staked out the crossing just in front of Haru-chan's kindergarten.

A tug on his hand. "Where's Takassan?" Of course Haru-chan would be the one to pick up on the oddity of the situation and actually _voice_ it. Ritsu would've been content to simply slog his way through the day dragging his curiosity behind him. The crossing signal changed before them, and Ritsu strode forward, shoulders hunched and struggling to concoct a believable excuse.

"Not sure," he responded, and it wasn't a lie at all--he honestly didn't know. "He's probably busy, though. He's an important man at Daddy's office." This seemed to convince Haru-chan, if not satisfy her, and she continued to pout the final few hundred meters to the front gates, at which point Ritsu released her to join her friends, waving at her retreating figure and receiving no such gesture in return. He frowned; it wasn't like it was _his_ fault Takano-san had chosen to disrupt the pattern he'd started. Right?

His mood well and sour thanks to Takano-san's did not improve when he found his boss sitting all prim and proper at his desk, right where he was supposed to be, when he finally arrived at the office. The others gave him their usual morning greetings when he offered his own, and he chalked Takano-san's distracted response up to being engrossed in the manuscript he had his nose buried in--less than a week of working together had taught him that Takano-san was not to be trifled with in the office, especially when Kisa-san whispered as an aside that _Ichinose-sensei dropped a bunch of storyline changes in his lap and then took a week's vacation and turned off her cell phone_. Ritsu had never met this Ichinose-sensei, but he didn't envy her once she returned.

The new cycle had barely started, and already it seemed the office was alive with activity. He was still working through the stack of back issues of previously edited manuscripts, but he was relieved to notice that even with only a few days' work under his belt, already the changes were coming more easily, the logic easier to follow as he found himself nodding in assent with this or that change, making notes for himself for future reference.

Kisa-san tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he had plans for lunch, and only then did Ritsu realize he'd already worked through to lunch break, glancing around wildly and finding the office empty but for the two of them. Three hours and Takano-san hadn't bothered him; that had to be a new record.

The not-bothering continued, though, for the rest of the day, and the relief he'd felt that morning was slowly but steadily being eclipsed by discomfort, leaving Ritsu feeling as if he were constantly on edge and waiting for the other shoe to drop. The guy didn't even give him a second glance when he bid the few Emerald workers left good evening as he left for the day.

The ride home alone was, for once, quiet and undisturbed by Takano-san's prickly presence next to him, and yet Ritsu felt no less tense than if the guy had been leaning into him and falling asleep on his shoulder.

This eerie Takano-san-less process was rinsed and repeated the next day, and the day after that, and so on and so forth, until Friday rolled around and Ritsu half-wondered if perhaps his first few days had been some sort of feverish dream he'd concocted as a way to cope with the stress and frustration of being assigned to shoujo manga in lieu of his preferred literature division.

Perhaps the most irksome part of this whole silent-treatment thing, though, was having to keep explaining Takano-san's absence to Haru-chan, who after a few days had stopped asking where _Takassan_ was and why he'd stopped walking with them. He hoped it just meant she'd forgotten about him, or that she'd accepted the excuse that he was busy, but something gnawed in his gut at the idea that she felt disappointed and forgotten, and that it was in a roundabout way _his_ fault for driving the guy away in the first place.

Still, despite his avoidance of Ritsu in the off hours, Takano-san had been…almost _cordial_ in the office, no longer raising his voice (too much), and phrasing his questions and complaints in a manner that could almost be construed as _polite_ when pointing out errors to Ritsu or having him listen in on a call to an author to develop his conversation skills. While the interaction was a little unsettling…it wasn't unwelcome, and it gave Ritsu pause to reflect that Takano-san's line about not being able to be professional with Ritsu was bull.

A chorus of farewells roused him from his thoughts, and he glanced around just in time to catch Takano-san breeze past him, coat on and briefcase in hand as he headed out the door. "Eh?" he called out helplessly, confused, and twisted around back to Kisa-san, brows raised. "Did I miss something?"

Kisa-san snorted and rolled his eyes. "If you keep letting yourself get so engrossed in your work, you won't last a full cycle, newbie." He jerked his head to the door through which Takano-san had just disappeared. "Takano-san had some errands to run, so he cut out early."

Ritsu blinked a few times and let out a soft _aah…_ of understanding before shaking his head and turning back to his work. The guy was the editor-in-chief; it was his own business how he spent his time at work, and it wasn't Ritsu's place to begrudge him using company time for personal errands so long as he got his job done.

At least it was Friday, though, and given that he hadn't been distracted too much this week with Takano-san looming over him (even if he was still distracting Ritsu in new ways), he'd somehow managed to work his way through the pile of old manuscripts, finishing off the last one with a relieved huff conveniently around the time he usually tried to cut out to get home in time to bid Haru-chan good night.

He stretched his back out, pushing his arms above his head with a sigh, and shifted out of his chair to pull his coat off the rack, conversing lightly with Kisa-san and Mino-san, the only others left since Hatori-san had left around lunch for a meeting with an author. Bidding them a good weekend, he ducked out of the offices and hastily made his way to the front lobby, jogging towards the station with a pep in his step at the idea of being able to make it home a bit early with a relatively light workload for the first time since starting at Marukawa.

On the trek up from the station to his apartment, his phone buzzed with a text message, and he whipped it out--An-chan, responding with a cheery we'll be waiting~ to his earlier e-mail letting her know he'd be home early and that he hoped to join them for dinner. Smiling and shaking his head, he pocketed the device and reflected that sure, maybe they made a less-than-ideal family unit now, but it was still nice knowing someone was waiting for you at home, regardless of relationships. They weren't married anymore, and An-chan probably would always hold a torch for him, but she'd agreed to this arrangement and put up with him all this time; she deserved a medal, he felt.

Fishing around in his pocket for his keys with one hand, he pressed down on the handle to his apartment experimentally with the other, frowning when it gave way without protest; usually they kept the door locked, even when they were home. He pulled on the handle, poking his head inside and shivering at the difference in temperature between the chilly hallway and the warm interior that invited him inside. "I'm home…" he called tentatively, glancing about. "An-chan?"

"Kitchen~" came the muffled response from further inside, followed by a giggle that sounded distinctly like Haru-chan, and Ritsu felt his heart skip a beat. That kid could make him feel the strangest things.

He unbuttoned his coat and hung it on the coatrack by the door, his bag beside it on the floor, and shuffled into the kitchen in socked feet, sniffing loudly and complimenting, "I dunno what's on for tonight, but it smells good so it can't be horrible."

" _Mou_ Ricchan," came the reply, laced with mock irritation, and he peeked around the corner, expecting to find his ex-wife with her hair up in a high ponytail and clad in some frilly apron she'd brought to the apartment just for such an occasion, poring over a stew pot bubbling over with soup or curry or hot-pot or some equally delicious concoction.

Instead, he found her lounging against the kitchen counter, still in her work-clothes, sipping a mug of some hot drink while _Takano-san_ tended a pot on the stove, sleeves rolled up and a nondescript blue apron tied at his waist and neck. Haru-chan stood between them on the topmost level of a step stool, trying her best to lean over the pot that Takano-san was working to keep her clear of.

His breath caught in his chest, and he felt irritation inflame his cheeks, but before he could even voice his indignation, Haru-chan had whirled around, noticing him, and jumped down to run and embrace him, welcoming him home excitedly in an incomprehensible babble and gesturing in Takano-san's general direction.

Ritsu looked to An-chan, pathetically hoping she might offer some sort of explanation, but she was just congenially conversing with Takano-san in low tones, and Ritsu was left with little recourse but to join them in the kitchen. "I…what are you doing here?" It took everything he had not to snap the question, instead leaving little more than a tremble to his tone as indication of just how close he was from laying into the guy.

Haru-chan filled in the gaps. "Takassan's been busy like you said! An'--he finished his work today! So he came by to help make dinner tonight! Cause he missed me!" She threw a smile over her shoulder at Takano-san, brows raised, and released an excited squeal when he beamed down at her.

"I didn't want her to get the wrong idea. You understand, right, Onodera?"

"Ah…sure…" he allowed weakly, letting himself be dragged away to the table by Haru-chan, who insisted he sit down immediately and wait for dinner to be served, since Takassan had informed her that her daddy was absolutely _exhausted_ after a long week at work and shouldn't have to lift a finger once he got home. Ritsu threw the guy an irritated glance, but had no choice but to comply with his daughter's urging.

This was… _unconscionable_. Beyond simply inviting himself on an outing with Ritsu and Haru-chan, this was worming his way further into Ritsu's life than he was at all comfortable with, all against Ritsu's express wishes. What had this week been? Simply lulling Ritsu into a false sense of security? Had it all been a trick, just to pull this at the last minute? He'd honestly thought for a minute there that maybe he'd made an impression on the guy, that maybe he'd successfully convinced him that this was not happening, that it was inappropriate at best and breaking company regulations at worst.

Obviously he'd been _exceedingly_ wrong.

The only bright side to this situation was that Takano-san happened to be a rather decent cook (or maybe it had been An-chan looking over his shoulder and helping him along--they were going to need to have a _long_ talk about why the hell she'd seen fit to invite a stranger into his apartment), and Ritsu barely had long enough for his anger to simmer into a low boil before the table was set and the four of them were enjoying a rather awkward little dinner together.

If An-chan noticed the way Ritsu's shoulders were set or the short responses he gave to any questions asked of him, she remained perfectly poised and didn't comment on it, instead chattering on aimlessly as her daughter tended to about Haru-chan's day and how her parents were returning from a trip to Australia the next week, sure to be laden with souvenirs for Haru-chan and Ritsu.

Haru-chan was, of course, ecstatic about this turn of conversation, and An-chan had to practically drag her from the table into her room to prepare her for bed, apologizing to Takano-san who'd already stood and started to clear the table. "It's nothing, Kohinata-san. I'm only just next door, after all. Please." He gestured to the wriggling five-year-old in her arms, and she huffed a laugh of gratitude and dragged Haru-chan into her bedroom.

Ritsu watched Takano-san warily, wondering who was going to start the conversation first, for the sooner it started, the sooner it would end, and he wanted to get this over with so he could _enjoy_ the rest of his weekend. But the seconds ticked by, and even after the table had been completely cleared, Takano-san showed no signs of even noticing Ritsu was sitting there, glaring daggers in his general direction.

So what--was he supposed to start? Was Takano-san going to simply ignore him and go about mundanely cleaning up, only to breeze out the door and back into his apartment like this was nothing? Was Takano-san even going to respond if he _did_ attempt to start something, or would he keep up the silent treatment?

He spent so much time dithering on about how to go about properly blowing up at Takano-san that it seemed only a moment later and An-chan had stuck her head into the kitchen again, hissing for Ritsu's attention. "I've put Haru-chan to bed--don't wake her up. She stayed up too late tonight as-is, and you know how cranky she gets when she doesn't get a good night's sleep."

"Ah…right." Ritsu nodded weakly and moved to stand and see her out, but she had already darted around the corner, leaving Ritsu where he stood and reflecting that he hadn't even gotten to give _her_ a lecture too. Which left only himself and Takano-san here now. Great.

The water hissing from the faucet was silenced with a squeak from the handle, and Takano-san shook his hands dry, wiping them off on a dish towel with a sigh as he turned to face Ritsu and relax against the counter. "All right. Lay into me."

Ritsu felt the last of his restraint melt away, striding forward. "This--this is--" His frustration caught in his throat. "You've been ignoring me _all week_ for--"

"Ignoring you?" He raised a brow. "I haven't been ignoring you."

It wasn't untrue. "Well--you haven't been--just, you've been treating me like a _normal_ employee and--"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" _Fuck_ he wasn't going to make this easy, was he? Takano-san tossed the towel on the counter and took a measured step forward, drawing himself up as if to remind Ritsu that he was older, taller, and superior to him in virtually every respect. "Make up your mind, Onodera. What do you _want_?"

"I just…" He shook his head. "I just want to be left _alone_. Why do you insist on doing this?! On--on forcing your way into my life like this?!"

"Because you forced yourself into mine first." He shrugged. "Take responsibility." This simply worked to piss off Ritsu even further, and he clenched his hands tight at his sides, nails digging into the flesh of his palms. "Plus--" he added, "You still haven't given me a good reason not to." Ritsu's mouth snapped open, an accusing reminder fresh on his lips, but Takano-san cut him off. "And--don't you _dare_ try to use _we don't love each other_ again. I already told you that's bullshit." He narrowed his eyes. "Tell me you're not ready to date so soon after divorcing; tell me you can't dedicate your time and energy to loving someone else because you've just changed jobs and you're trying to support your kid. But--" He shook a finger in Ritsu's face. "--don't you stand there and tell me that everything you ever felt for me back then has just vanished."

He brushed past Ritsu in a huff, leaving him dumbfounded and struggling for words as he processed Takano-san's lecture. He could hear the faint sound of Takano-san clearing the last of the condiments from the table, returning the salt and pepper shakers to their shelf over the stove.

"Or," he continued, waving one hand in Ritsu's direction, "You want to try and convince me you _just want to live a normal life_? Also bullshit." He jerked a thumb towards Haru-chan's room. "If you think this is any way to raise a kid and live your life, trading off time with your ex-wife who still cooks you dinner and burying yourself in work for a genre you don’t even like, you’re pathetic.”

Ritsu was getting well and fed up with being lectured by Takano-san of all people, and he bristled at the insult, feeling the barb from it far more keenly than he did on a typical day in the office. “I’m not pathe--”

“And you’re more pathetic for denying it.” He shook his head, a wry smile on his lips that didn't reach his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re going to run yourself into the ground, you know--trying to balance work and family and trying to keep your sanity.”

Ritsu let his gaze drop to the floor, feeling himself hurtling forward, headed for a brick wall at a pace he couldn't keep up with. “And yet you want me to bring romance into the equation?”

“I want--you to let me try and help! Have you even been listening to a damn thing I've said?”

 _Yes, against my will_ he wanted to snap, but instead he just spit out in a frustrated hiss, “I don’t _need_ your help!” He needed this man out of his personal life and involved as little as possible in his professional one. He needed--room to breathe. He need to _forget_ and move on, now that he had the closure he'd always missed.

He kept his eyes trained on the floor but could feel Takano-san's judging gaze falling on him. “...You don’t even believe yourself.”

Ritsu felt a shift in the air before he heard Takano-san step forward, and before he could do whatever he was intent on trying, Ritsu shoved past him and stalked into the living room, head down. He took a few laps around the room, massaging his temples, before slumping onto the couch and letting his head fall against the back cushion while he stared up at the ceiling, unblinking. He sighed loudly, keeping his voice quieter than he'd permitted in the kitchen. Haru-chan was a relatively light sleeper, and she didn't need to be audience to this.

When he spoke, his voice was softer than he'd expected it to be. “I was getting by just fine before you--I’ll continue to do so after you as well." He closed his eyes. "So--please just…give up on me.”

He was exhausted--from the day's work, from arguing, from simply being in Takano-san's presence. All of it weighed on him, demanding his attention and focus, and he just wanted to be _done_ with it, to free himself from what he could while focusing on those he couldn't. If Takano-san cared for him as much as he claimed, then maybe appealing to him in this way would finally get the guy off his back.

There was a long stretch of silence, and Ritsu couldn't even feel the air stirring around him, pondering for a moment if perhaps Takano-san hadn't just left without his noticing. But then a smoke-roughened voice calmly called out, "…You know."

" _What_?" Ritsu groaned, despair seeping into his tone.

There was the sound of boards creaking softly underfoot, and Ritsu felt the couch dip at his side as Takano-san sat down beside him--not so close that they were touching, but not far enough away for Ritsu's comfort. "…I never apologized."

He couldn't help himself. "For what? Continuing to be annoyingly persistent when people tell you they don’t want anything to do with you?” He hoped the bite in the response belied how truly desperate he was growing.

Takano-san snorted softly next to him, and Ritsu could see him shaking his head in his mind's eye. “For telling you you were disgusting.” Ritsu let his eyes flutter open, brows knitting in confusion. Takano-san had told him a great many things in the past week or so--but _you're disgusting_ was not one of them.

Takano-san rubbed his hands between his legs, licking his lips. “…I was frustrated--and, you kept coming around all the time and being this annoying, upbeat thing that just made me realize how crappy my own life was. And…no one had ever done anything like that for me. Not without wanting something in return." He laughed shortly at himself. "I mean, I guess I knew deep down you were getting something out of it too, being able to be around me, but...I don't know. It was different somehow. And...I hated that about you." He clenched his fists in his pants. "I hated that you were always hanging around me, shoving in my face the fact that you were this--bastion of goodness and innocence and I was stuck in a dark hole that no one even noticed.” He wiped a hand over his face, covering his mouth so that his words were slightly muffled. “So I blew up at you. I’m sorry.”

Ritsu faltered for words, flushing deeply as he recalled with startling clarity that day when he'd felt a crack form in the rosy little world he'd been cocooned in up until then, his beloved Saga-sempai's rage and irritation and frustration seeping in and tainting what he'd known deep down had to be too good to be true. The guy had never apologized really…but he'd never needed to. Ritsu had never asked him to. Now, he just nodded silently, not sure what else to say.

Beside him, the cushions shifted again, and Takano-san pushed himself up, standing tall and straight and staring ahead at nothing. "…No one had ever loved me like that before. It’s hard to let go of something like that.” He reached out one hand and softly ruffled Ritsu's hair, a few fingers trailing through the strands before falling away as he stepped around Ritsu and headed towards the front hallway.

He swallowed.

He was going to be fine. He was almost safe, almost free--if he could just sit this out, ride out this emotional wave until Takano-san was out the door and out of his life. If he could just close his eyes and bite his tongue and stop his mind from filtering dozens of images through it like a roll of film projected on high speed, if he could stop hearing Saga-sempai in his head whispering _I love you, Ritsu…_ , if he could somehow-- _somehow_ stop remembering Takano-san’s reminder that he meant it back then, really _really_ meant it--that it wasn’t just pretty words filtered into the pillow because Ritsu was a decent lay…

If he could manage all of that…then he'd be okay.

So he wanted to bite his tongue off then and there when his voice somehow found traction in his throat and he caught himself calling out weakly, "…Wait."

And of course, Takano-san did, because he was an asshole through and through. He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head in an attempt to clear it, pushing himself up and standing on unsteady legs, the room wobbling about him as the blood rushed to his head with the thrill of the moment. "Just--" He stopped himself. Best not to take this too quickly or he'd wind up blurting out something he would regret. Something he'd regret more than he _already_ regretted this.

He stubbed a toe on the coffee table, hissing a curse to himself and flushing in humiliation. Keeping his eyes trained on the floor, he held back when Takano-san's feet came into view, being sure to keep an decent distance between them. "…I don't want to date anyone." He swallowed thickly. "I don't--want to date or be in a relationship or have to deal with any of the stress or anything associated with it--"

"Then what the hell am I 'wait'-ing for, here?"

Ritsu bristled, fists clenched as his face reddened less with shame and more with anger. “You really want to piss me off right now?” This seemed to shut him up. "I just…want you to understand how I feel. About all of this. I don't want to be in some relationship where the other person…expects things of me." He waited for Takano-san to make a comment here, but none came, so he continued. "But…maybe you have a point."

"About?" It was glaringly obvious he was fishing for compliments, hoping for Ritsu to admit he was right about something on the heels of that spectacular explosion.

"About…" Ritsu had no intention of giving him the pleasure. "Just, you had a point."

Thankfully, Takano-san seemed just as weary of this whole affair as Ritsu, for he sighed, defeated. "…So what does that mean, then?" He didn't sound hopeful, and Ritsu hated the stab of guilt that lanced through his chest here.

He licked his lips nervously. “It means...you can walk with us to take Haru-chan to school in the mornings. If you want.”

He fully expected to be met with a scoff, for Takano-san to make some scornful remark about how Ritsu was being _oh so generous_ , but after a stretch of silence with no such response, he couldn't help himself and glanced up, hesitantly meeting the man's eyes.

All he found was a soft, relieved smile as he shook his head and allowed, "…I suppose it's a start."


	6. Chapter 6

"And you just-- _let him in_? Without even checking that it was fine with me?"

Ritsu's voice was strained, but at least he hadn't let himself vault into the shrill octaves he tended to whenever he got worked up.

 _"Well, you two were speaking the other night, and he had a business card showing that you worked together and everything--he certainly seemed to know you well, so I assumed you had made plans and just not told me."_

Ritsu sighed to himself, massaging his temple with his free hand. Arguing with An-chan about how Takano-san was really not supposed to be flitting in and out of his apartment as he pleased had not been how he'd wanted to spend the rest of his weekend, but that matter had to be addressed at some point. "Well, yeah--we work together, but we're really not that close and--"

 _"You aren't?"_

"I…no. We're not." He swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly going dry. Takano-san…hadn't _said_ anything, had he? Was An-chan perhaps just playing ignorant so as not to hurt Ritsu's feelings? He shuddered at the image that bubbled up unbidden in his mind of Takano-san and An-chan chatting animatedly about their respective difficulties in dating Ritsu while preparing dinner. "He's just my work superior who happens to live next door, that's all."

She _hmm_ ed knowingly, but said something, simply huffing a sigh and allowing, _"Then--I apologize; I honestly thought you'd discussed it before and that you were friends or something. I didn't know you even worked together until he mentioned it in passing."_ There was a slight pause. _"…Is anything the matter, Ricchan?"_

"Eh?"

 _"Just--you haven't seemed yourself lately. I thought maybe it was because you were starting your new job, but it's been nearly two weeks now…"_

The last thing he needed was his ex-wife probing into his new problems. He pasted on a smile, hoping it helped bring out a more convincing tone in his argument. "I'm just adjusting still is all. It's really nothing I can't handle."

Before she could offer more concerned platitudes, he cut the conversation short, professing a pressing need to run errands of some sort, and quickly disconnected, slumping back against his couch. He strained his ears, concentrating his focus on his auditory sense, and listened for sounds of life next door…

Nothing. He hoped that meant Takano-san was out. He was still considering having his tongue removed before it got him into any more trouble, going over in his head for the fiftieth time the foolish promises he'd made Takano-san, and hating all the more how for just a moment, a split second, it had felt _so good_ to give in and let whatever happened _happen_.

At least he'd stopped himself before he'd _asked_ Takano-san to walk with them to take Haru-chan to school. Small favors were indeed a blessing in a world devoid of most any such niceties.

 _God_ what had he been thinking? Had he just let everything he'd decided, all of the decisions he'd firmly made, be blown away because he felt _sorry_ for Takano-san? What about Haru-chan? What about settling everything with An-chan and working out a normal schedule for her? What about starting over and working his way up the chain of command until he was in charge of first-rate authors again, showing everyone who'd ever accused him of riding coattails that he was a _good editor_ , dammit? What about transferring out of shoujo manga at the first opportunity?

Why was the only thing he could think about Takano-san saying things like _No one had ever loved me like that before_ and _You loved me before_ and worst of all, _You still love me now_? Was he never going to learn? Was he just going to keep throwing himself at anyone who offered to try and love him only to find out that he needed to learn to just be happy alone, that Haru-chan was good enough and he didn't need to lie to An-chan or tolerate Takano-san to be happy?

He closed his eyes and groaned, feeling the pressure as an almost physical pain.

* * *

Much as he'd hoped and prayed it wouldn't, Monday came at the same time it always did, and Ritsu cooked up an easy lie about some bad milk to explain to Haru-chan why he looked like he was going to pass out before they exited the genkan. She didn't press the issue further (thank god for the attention span of a five-year-old), and Ritsu steeled himself, wondering if he would ever be able to open his front door again without flinching.

"Takassan!"

He nearly was knocked to the ground as Haru-chan barreled past him in a blur of white teeth and brown hair, only drawing to a stop when she was within hand-holding distance of Takano-san, who seemed to have established the pillar across the hall as his "place" where, from now on, he would be waiting for Ritsu and Haru-chan to make their morning trek to the kindergarten.

"Morning, Haru-chan." His smile was soft, face a mask of gentleness that would've sent chills of unease down the spines of all Emerald workers, and he subsequently directed a sharper gaze at Ritsu, smile shifting smoothly into a crooked grin that spoke volumes, mostly on the subject of _got her wrapped around my finger, and you're next_. "Morning, Onodera."

He mumbled his response, not intending to give the guy the pleasure of a proper greeting. They weren't in the office, so there was no sense in extending anything more than the basic pleasantries to his next door neighbor. If he wanted a proper _good morning_ from Ritsu, he was going to have to wait until they arrived at Marukawa.

Takano-san extended his hand dutifully to Haru-chan, who latched on tightly and tugged him towards the elevator with such force that he actually stumbled, and Ritsu couldn't help the amused snicker that seeped out, feeling that much better when Takano-san tossed him a look of annoyance at the gesture. If he wasn't prepared to keep up with an energetic five-year-old, then he certainly didn't need to bother himself with them any further.

While he neglected to say this aloud, the message still seemed to reach Takano-san loud and clear, and he simply adjusted his coat and skipped a few steps forward to fall in line next to Haru-chan while she swung their arms between them, already off on a tangent about what she'd had for breakfast and the dream she'd had the night before wherein she was a princess and all her people were carrot sticks.

They continued their conversation, Takano-san proving to have the patience of a saint, down the elevator shaft and through the lobby, and once outside Haru-chan decided to start involving Ritsu in the chatter, occasionally asking his thoughts on subjects ranging from could she wear her hair in braids tomorrow to wondering when they could next--the three of them--go to the park together again. Takano-san seemed particularly interested in the latter subject, feigning talking to himself as he went over his schedule for the next three weeks just loud enough for Ritsu to hear.

Ritsu pasted on a smile as they waved off Haru-chan at the gates to the schoolyard, trying to keep his features even as Takano-san made a spectacle of himself calling out his farewells to Haru-chan, and he hissed softly as they started to attract attention from a few of the mothers dropping off their children, "You're making a scene, Takano-san."

Takano-san just snorted and turned on his heel, clapping Ritsu on the shoulder. "Kids like being embarrassed by their parents."

"Okay one--you're _not_ her parent; and two, that makes no sense whatsoever." He frowned up at Takano-san out of the corner of his eye as they trudged back the way they'd come, headed for the station. "What am I supposed to tell those women if they ask who you are?"

A shrug. "The truth?"

He huffed. " _Your_ version of the truth, or the real truth?"

"Dealer's choice," he quipped in response, smile growing, and this just put Ritsu in an even fouler mood. He hated being the one always on the defensive, and at this rate he was never going to be able to be calm or comfortable around Takano-san. "Anyways, are you sure she's even your kid?"

" _What?_ "

"I'm saying she talks a lot." He glanced over at Ritsu. "You never gabbed that much around me."

Ritsu flushed and hunched lower in his coat, staring down at his feet as they plodded forward. "That's because you were you. I was fine around other people."

"Hmm, so I was _special_." Ritsu tossed him a confused glare, and he actually laughed. "I guess I'll take it as a compliment."

"It doesn't matter to me how you take it: I was a scared little fifteen-year-old."

"And now you're a scared little twenty-five-year-old." He reached over and ruffled Ritsu's hair once for good measure. "Some things never change."

Ritsu batted his hand away and took a few steps to the side to distance himself from Takano-san in case he decided to try the move again, cheeks red with the chill and flushing deeper now. "I'm not scared of you."

"No?"

"No," he repeated, resolute, and focused his gaze ahead. He wasn't scared of Takano-san the person at all; he was scared of everything he represented.

* * *

"Oi." Ritsu winced in pain at the sharp rapping of a rolled up sheaf of papers being slapped across his head.

"What the-- _don't do that_!" He ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing his scalp ruefully and glaring up at the perpetrator. "What did I do?"

"You weren't answering me."

"I was--" Ritsu started, then cut himself off; he'd been engrossed in reviewing an example of a project proposal Kisa-san had drafted a few weeks back, in preparation for the proposals he would soon have to start drawing up himself. It looked entirely too complicated, but Ritsu supposed if the goal of the whole thing was just to convince the committee that an author deserved serialization, then it was all just a matter of promoting the project well, and the paperwork was entirely a formality. "What do you want, Takano-san?"

Ignoring the rather rude language, his boss slapped the rolled up sheaf of papers against his palm a few times in succession. "Get your stuff, we're going out for lunch."

"We--what?" He grasped for an excuse, mind desperately flitting about. "I--already agreed to eat with Kisa-san today, though." Kisa-san was off picking up a manuscript at the moment and could therefore not give a confused, "Huh?" to this whipped-up-on-the-spot lie. Flawless. "Perhaps some other--"

"Kisa's having lunch with an author." He snapped his hand out and grabbed onto the collar of the light jacket Ritsu wore inside the office, tugging him out of his chair protesting. "And so are we, grab your coat."

What Takano-san had failed to explain about their "lunch date" (and which would have made Ritsu much more inclined to comply, as it was a part of the job) was that he was about to be introduced to a new author. Well--new for _him_. The woman--a "Mutou Yukina"-sensei--was a veteran who'd been staffed by Hatori-san in the past, but since she was easy to work with and Hatori-san was already under a strained workload, they'd decided to offload her onto Ritsu. While she worked from her home in Hokkaido for the most part, as luck would have it, she was in Tokyo to attend an exhibition, and Takano-san had managed to arrange a lunch date.

Ritsu swallowed thickly and brushed his hair with his fingers for the fourth time in the past minute as they awaited her arrival in a small cafe booth. He frowned at Takano-san across the table for good measure, somehow irked by the way in which he was calmly sipping his coffee and staring out the window at the passersby outside. "You could've let me know we were going to meet an author today. I would've dressed up."

"You never asked." Another sip. "Besides, they're mangaka; they always look like shit, so they won't expect us to look any nicer than they do."

Somehow, this wasn't comforting. "Still," he protested, "If you had just--"

"Ah--Mutou-sensei!" Takano-san's voice went up in pitch as he adopted the gentler tone Ritsu noticed he favored around people he respected (or was supposed to respect, at least). Following his lead, Ritsu slipped out of the booth and scrambled to his feet, fishing around in his pocket for a business card as Takano-san traded formalities with the woman who'd just entered the cafe. Bowing slightly, he gestured to Ritsu, "And this is our newest member, Onodera. We're thinking of having him handle your work from now on in place of Hatori. He's new to shoujo manga, but he's got considerable editing experience in literature, so I'm confident he'll be able to help you put out the best product possible."

Ritsu would've gaped at the compliments being heaped upon him by a guy who usually seemed to take great pleasure in tearing him down, but his sense of propriety saved him, and when Takano-san fell silent, casting him a hopeful glance with a raised brow, he snapped into action, fumbling with his business card. "I'm Onodera Ritsu. It's a pleasure to meet you, and I look forward to working with you."

"I'm Mutou Yukina." She held out a card of her own, and Ritsu accepted it graciously. "I also hope we can have a good working relationship."

With pleasantries exchanged, they settled in at the cafe and conversed casually over the sorts of stories Mutou-sensei specialized in, her general rate of return for drafts, and points she felt she needed particular help with from her editor. By the end of their lunch break, Ritsu felt the weight that had settled between his shoulders lessen, and his spirits subsequently lifted, the sensation of confidence foreign but appreciated. With someone as understanding as Mutou-sensei as his first client, he might actually be able to make this shoujo manga thing work out if getting a transfer to literature proved not as easy as he'd initially hoped.

On the train back to Iidabashi, Takano-san pressed him for his thoughts, shattering the good mood that had settled upon him after bidding Mutou-sensei farewell. "So? You haven't said a word. You think you'll be able to handle her?"

Not wanting to endure more teasing or biting commentary about Ritsu getting _full of himself_ , he played his hand carefully, opting to purposefully put up an uncertain front. "I…guess so. It certainly seems like a lot of work, even though it's just one author. I don't see how you manage 3 or 4 at a time."

Beside him, Takano-san snorted derisively. "What the hell's with that response? You're the one going on about wanting to start fresh and turn over a new leaf and all that crap. You're never going to become a first-rate manga editor piddling around with the likes of Kisa and Mino and Hatori hovering over your shoulder all the time telling you when you've screwed up."

"They don't _hover over me_! And I'm working hard, here--you of all people should know--"

"I do." Ritsu huffed softly at his rant being cut off, staring over at Takano-san, who kept his gaze forward but didn't seem to be focusing on anything. "That you're working hard. I notice." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And you're handling it reasonably well, so stop worrying so much." He propped one arm up against the armrest at his side and settled his head against his palm. "I won't give you more than you can handle."

Ritsu frowned, wondering where he got off thinking he had any idea of what Ritsu could and couldn't handle.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Ritsu finishing going over the example proposal he'd been torn away from before lunch, subsequently segueing into his tackling a stack of back manuscripts of Mutou-sensei's that Hatori-san had been in charge of in the past. She wasn't a terribly prolific author, but given that she'd been with Marukawa for several years now, it was still a daunting task to leaf through everything she'd published.

Nevertheless, after only a few hours and a quarter of the stack gone through, Ritsu had found a nice rhythm in reading her material, picking up her idiosyncrasies and making careful note of all of Hatori-san's recommendations, pleased when he found himself nodding his consensus with the changes.

Rustling from behind him caught his attention, and he twisted around to catch Mino-san and Kisa-san waving their goodbyes as they slipped out to catch a drink together before parting ways. A glance at his watch told him it was probably best to start packing up. Hatori-san had let his lunch date turn into a dinner date, it seemed, and still wasn't back in the office--which left Ritsu all alone with Takano-san in the _Emerald_ offices now.

He dared a glance over at the Editor-in-Chief's desk, behind which Takano-san was concentrating on a manuscript from one of his authors, brows knit behind thick-rimmed glasses he only ever seemed to wear when hunched over his desk. The guy was a terror to work for--but Ritsu would give that he was more than competent. In the space of barely two weeks, he'd managed to bring Ritsu up to speed on all the lingo slung around the manga offices as well as teach him the ins and outs of editing glorified comics for girls, despite the fact that the closest he'd ever come to such material was that his own life somehow seemed to mirror a plot reminiscent of the genre.

He sighed softly and rubbed the corners of his eyes, shaking his head and shuffling the papers before him into a neat stack, sliding on a clip and setting it back on top of the stack with the other manuscripts to deal with the next morning.

"Let's go out to dinner tonight."

Ritsu shot up straight, head snapping around at the voice that had spoken just beside him--this guy was some kind of _ninja_ or something. How did he manage to move around like that without Ritsu noticing until it was too late? "E-- _eh?!_ "

"Neither one of us are getting any more work today. If I have to read one more panel from _Erika-sama_ I'm going to light a match to it all." He straightened up, staring down at Ritsu and raising his brows in invitation. "Well?"

"Well…what?"

" _Dinner?_ Are you deaf or something?"

"I'm _not_ \--" he started, but he really didn't have the energy right now, and he wiped a hand over his face, casting about for his cellphone. "I can't have dinner with you, don't be ridiculous. I've got to get home to Haru-chan."

"I thought your ex-wife watched her?"

His fingers finally found the phone underneath a few blank proposal forms he'd copied to practice on. "She does--but I try and get home as quickly as possible when I can. I've got responsibilities; I can't just go out for dinner whenever I like, you know."

"Hmm, so you would've _liked_ to, then?"

He flushed, brushing past Takano-san for his coat. "It means I can't have dinner with you, nothing more."

Takano-san _hmphed_ , an ambiguous response, and changed tack: "Then--let me make you dinner. You and Haru-chan."

"Eh?" Ritsu's fingers fumbled with the buttons on his jacket, trembling with nerves until Takano-san sighed and batted them away, buttoning the coat for him.

"Did I stutter? Do you not speak Japanese?"

He took a calculated step back, just out of Takano-san's reach, and picked up his bag. "I can understand you perfectly fine. You just aren't making any sense." He took one last glance around his desk to ensure he hadn't left anything behind, then brushed past Takano-san, not caring if the guy followed or not.

Waiting for the elevator, he felt a presence draw up close behind him, and Takano-san at least had the good graces to keep his voice down, given that the building was still abuzz with activity this early in the evening. "I was under the impression that that lecture the other night meant I was still allowed to seduce you…" Ritsu's face lit up, but he bit his lip to keep from delivering the tongue lashing he wanted to serve up, instead clutching his bag close and hurrying into the empty car when it arrived. Takano-san lumbered on slowly after him, all leisure and unruffled coolness. "Also, I have nothing in my fridge right now and I know that _you_ do." Ritsu remained resolutely silent, and even Takano-san's patience eventually wore out. "Well? Onodera?"

" _What?_ "

He could hear the frown in Takano-san's voice as he was practically chased out of the building, offering a small nod to the women at reception. "Would you--stop running away? Geez."

Ritsu complied--but only because Takano-san had managed to catch him by the wrist halfway down the small hill leading away from Marukawa. He tried to sink low in his jacket; why couldn't Takano-san just accept the meager scraps Ritsu was giving him? Why did he have to go and ask for _more_?

"I asked you a question."

"I heard."

"The polite thing to do would be to answer." Ritsu glanced away. "…I really wish you'd make up your mind."

His focus was pulled back. "Eh?"

Takano-san crossed his arms, breathing out through his nose. "Give me some fucking closure I can believe if you're not going to give me a chance. But don't--go feeling pity for me and think you're doing me a favor by giving me hope if you don't have the slightest intention of letting me get closer to you." He stepped forward to illustrate the point, raising one hand and frowning when Ritsu flinched as it neared his face, letting it drop again at his side in a clenched fist.

At the crunch of Takano-san's heel on the asphalt as he brushed past to continue walking, Ritsu swallowed and found his voice. "Y-you can't. Make us dinner." Takano-san paused--but only for a moment, before he continued forward, and Ritsu glanced up with a gasp, desperation shocking his body into action as he forced his jelly legs to carry him ahead. "I didn't mean--it's just…" He huffed in irritation at himself and stood his ground. "Would you-- _wait_?"

To his surprise, Takano-san did, shifting his weight to one foot as he twisted in place to favor Ritsu with a cool backwards glance. Ritsu took the opportunity to stalk forward the few meters separating them now, shoving his hands in his pockets as he drew up level with Takano-san and they continued forward together. "…I didn't mean it like that," he repeated for good measure. "Just…An-chan usually makes dinner for us." His eyes widened at his words, as if he couldn't believe he'd spoken them, and while Takano-san had said nothing about the idle comment, he scrambled to clarify, "I mean--it's not that she makes it for _me_ , she just makes Haru-chan and herself dinner, and usually there's some left-over, so I eat that to keep it from going to waste, and if I have plans, I usually let her know and she makes sure to cut down on the ingredients so there's--"

"Ah _geez_ , just shut up." The command was gruff, irritated--but not angry. Out of the corner of his eye, Ritsu noticed Takano-san run a hand through his hair, massaging his temple as if to relieve a headache. "I don't need the explanation."

Ritsu's stomach churned at being brushed off so easily. He wasn't sure _why_ he felt the need to explain himself and his situation to Takano-san, but…he did, all the same. He didn't like being misunderstood or thought to be something he wasn't, and Takano-san was a person he particularly didn't care to appear weak or hobbled in front of. But then--Takano-san already knew he was divorced, so why should he feel worried that the guy was getting the wrong idea about his relationship with An-chan?

Hell, it shouldn't even matter what Takano-san thought about his relationship with anyone in the first place.

Knowing he was stepping into a dangerous situation before he even opened his mouth, he ignored the alarms sounding in his mind, telling him to turn back, and offered as compensation, "…I guess if you're so adamant about spending time together, though, you could always have dinner with us."

He noticed Takano-san stall, steps falling silent as he trailed a few strides behind Ritsu, practically gaping. Ritsu pursed his lips, feeling rather put on the spot by the reaction, and he clarified, "It's not--a regular thing though, all right? But if you're going to keep bothering me with it, then…" He dared to glance up, gaze questioning as he probed for some sort of response.

Takano-san shook his head slowly, soft smile stretching across his face as he jogged to catch up. "Sounds better than a bentou from the conbini, at any rate."

* * *

"So, how did you and Ricchan meet, Takano-san?"

Sometimes, Ritsu really hated An-chan. She hadn't asked any questions when they'd turned up at Ritsu's front door together, and had only smiled and nodded brightly, welcoming the both of them home, when Ritsu casually mentioned that Takano-san would be joining them for dinner. But he hadn't missed the questioning glance she gave him when Takano-san had stridden into the living room to give his greetings to Haru-chan. He'd just offered a wry smile and changed the subject.

Dinner was curry--easy enough to share between a group of people, and unfortunately a meal which inspired conversation.

"I mean--you mentioned you work together, but I assumed you were closer than that. Is it just because you're neighbors?" She rested her chin in one hand, squinting in thought. "I can't believe we never ran into you when I lived here…"

"Oh," Takano-san started, swallowing the bite he had in his mouth with some effort, and he washed it down with a sip of tea. "We dated in high school."

"Ex…cuse me?" was An-chan's only response, decidedly more elegant than Ritsu's choking on his own tongue.

"We attended high school together," he clarified, poking Haru-chan in the nose as she tuned out the adults' conversation and busied herself with drawing pictures in the remains of her curry. "And dated for a few weeks in Spring of my third year."

An-chan threw a confused glance at Ritsu, whose heart finally jumpstarted again, and he was off doing damage control. "That's not--it wasn't _like that_ \--"

"Huh? Of course it was."

" _Takano-san_ \--!" He turned to An-chan, plaintive. "I mean, it wasn't _dating_ or anything like that. We just--just--"

"Dated."

" _Stop saying that_!" he snapped, desperation forcing his voice up an octave, and he jumped at a hand on his arm, twisting around to see An-chan staring at him in that _calm down, Ricchan_ way she did whenever he was overreacting about something and it was setting Haru-chan on edge. Usually it involved his mother suggesting something outrageous like Ritsu start getting more involved at his father's company in preparation to take it over some day; he longed for the days when _that_ had been his biggest source of stress.

A long stretch of silence settled between them, Takano-san still calmly spooning his curry into his mouth, Haru-chan whispering secrets to him _sotto voce_ , An-chan watching them all with a curious, knowing gaze flitting back and forth between them--and Ritsu, wishing the floor would just swallow him up.

At length, An-chan cleared her throat, and Ritsu stiffened in fearful anticipation--fearful of what, he didn't quite know, only that this couldn't be anything good. "Ricchan…why you don't help Haru-chan get into bed tonight? You don't get much chance on week-nights; you should take the opportunity while we have it."

"Eh?" That had _not_ been what he'd expected her to suggest after that whole fiasco…but Ritsu wouldn't lie and say he didn't feel like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He glanced across at Haru-chan, who was sipping the last of her tea and had her brows raised hopefully. "Ah…sure." It felt like running away--mostly because that was exactly what it was.

* * *

Masamune made himself useful after Onodera turned tail and fled into the bowels of the apartment, Haru-chan in tow. He snorted softly to himself and spooned up the last of his curry into his mouth, sighing contentedly with the meal. Cooking, while fulfilling, was generally not an activity Masamune found the time to engage in on a regular basis, and so his diet consisted primarily of conbini dinners and instant soup on the weekdays, with the occasional flourish of culinary skill on the weekends. To have a home-cooked meal--even by the ex-wife of an old flame--was a blessing, and he was grateful in the most honest of ways that Onodera had invited him over tonight, despite any misgivings.

He carried his plate and cup to the sink, running it under warm water before leaving it to soak with the other plates already stacked there.

Just as he was contemplating whether or not it would be overstepping to do the dishes, a calm voice at his back casually piped up. "So…when you say you and Ricchan _dated_ …?"

Masamune swallowed, staring down at the swirling vortex of bubbles, curry, and rice. It would be easy enough to pretend he hadn't heard, but…that was assuming Masamune was at all intimidated by being left alone with this woman. Which he wasn't.

He wasn't intimidated at all by the fact that she knew Onodera better than he did, or that she'd shared his bed for years and not a grand total of a few hours like Masamune had. He definitely wasn't intimidated by the fact that even now, divorced and with nothing but Haru-chan to force them to interact, Onodera still stared at her with more love and caring in his eye than he'd ever shown Masamune.

It wasn't fucking fair--that he was so honest and open with her and that he'd only ever been a ball of nerves at best or sharp, prickly, and contrary at worst with Masamune.

She could stand to be taken down a few pegs. "Dated? I suppose what people usually mean by the term, 'dating'--hanging out at the library together, catching a meal at Subway after school if we were hungry." He reached forward and turned the tap off with a squeak. "Fucking when we had the time." He pulled a dishtowel down from where it hung over the sink and mopped his hands dry. "You know."

He was smugly satisfied when she blinked a few times in rapid succession, but he would have rather she at least feigned shock, given a good _Why I never_ or two. He frowned when she let out a soft _Ah!_ of realization, leaning back when she pressed forward to get a better look at his face.

"Wait…are you _that person_?"

Masamune felt like a bug under glass, growing uncomfortable with her gaze and equally puzzled with her question. "I…what?"

She huffed in irritation and crossed her arms, leaning against a cabinet and raking him over. " _That_ person. The one that…" She glanced away, her voice growing small as if it hurt to even bring up the topic. "…that Ricchan's loved since middle school."

Masamune was grateful to have a counter behind him to keep him from embarrassing himself and slipping to the ground. That guy had…since _middle school_?…Still? And his ex-wife-- _his ex-wife_ \--knew this? "I…" He swallowed thickly, quickly shoving his mask of cool confidence back into place. "…You'll have to ask him that, I suppose."

"I'll take that as a yes," she snipped bitterly, a tone that didn't seem to suit her soft, gentle features at all. He supposed he could understand, though--the only person she'd probably ever felt was competition for her _Ricchan_ 's feelings was standing here in the same kitchen she once had, slowly but steadily, _surely_ , working his way back into Ritsu's life and edging her further out.

Masamune shrugged and shuffled from the kitchen into the hallway, following the familiar layout into the living area and feeling a mild prick of annoyance when he sensed her following at his heels.

"I love Ricchan," she announced with finality, and Masamune rolled his eyes where she couldn't see. "Whether we're married or not, no matter what he chooses to do with his life or who he starts seeing, I'll always love him."

"Good for you."

"And I don't want to see him hurt," she continued, ignoring his quip.

"That's nice--but it's really none of your concern."

"It involves my daughter; that's more my concern than yours, I'd wager." He tossed a glare over his shoulder, but couldn't exactly refute it. "I don't want Haru-chan involved in anything."

"She likes me."

"Then that makes it all the more dangerous." She crossed her arms. "Children don't understand why their parents don't want to live together any more, or why their mother or father starts seeing someone new. All they know is that there's someone new involved in their life and maybe they'll leave too."

Masamune's confident smile faltered, and he felt his ire rising. "I'm not leaving, if that's what you're worried about."

"There are a lot of things I'm worried about; you're not exactly on the top of that list, but you're probably the most immediate problem." She cast a glance to a door on the other side of the room, beyond which Onodera was likely tucking Haru-chan in for the evening. "Ricchan's worked hard to get where he is, and he's been through a lot. He's always carrying more than he can handle…and I mostly just wanted him to have one less thing to worry about, so I let him go. He _seems_ happier…so I guess it worked." She bit her lip and breathed in sharply, turning her gaze back to Masamune now. "I love Ricchan," she repeated, "So I'm only going to say this once, and for his own good: if you're here to make trouble--if you're here to tease him or taunt him or anything like that, if you're here casually, if you're here to confuse him and Haru-chan…please leave, and don't bother my family any more."

Masamune stared at her for a long beat, keeping his features calm and composed, before slowly bending at the hip and slipping backwards to fall with a soft _whump_ onto the couch, where he threw one leg over the other and tilted his head back in challenge. "I think I'll stick around."

Her frown shifted from pained to sour, and she muttered something under her breath that Masamune couldn't catch but which was likely some variation on _don't understand what he ever saw in you_ , and his chest puffed out a bit in pride. Masamune: 1, Ex-wife: 0.

He added for good measure, "You're not the only one capable of loving him, you know."

She snorted softly at this, smiling for the first time in their conversation, and shook her head. "You don't even really know him." Glancing at her watch, she huffed, "It's getting late and I still have errands to run." Shifting her gaze back to Masamune where he sat, comfortably relaxing on the couch, she added, "Tell Ricchan I said good night."

* * *

After finally managing to wrestle Haru-chan into bed following story time and "When can we play with Takassan again?" question time, Ritsu quietly slinked back into the living room on tip-toes, casting about worriedly when all he found in the living room was Takano-san reading a book on his couch.

"…Where did An-chan go?"

"Home, I guess."

"You _guess_?" Takano-san glanced up at this, pulling off the thick reading glasses and raising a brow. "Just--she didn't say anything?"

"Said to tell you good night. And also that you should definitely consider going out with me properly."

Ritsu flushed at the latter suggestion, then blanched when he recalled the events of earlier in the evening. He stomped forward with a hissed, " _Oi!_ "

"Hm?"

"Why the hell did you have to blab about what we did in high school--at the dinner table of all places?!"

"Was there a more appropriate location? And _An-chan_ asked so nicely. How was I expected to lie to her?"

"You could've just--said we were coworkers!" He ran a hand through his hair, breathing hard. "You're supposed to break that kind of stuff gently--if you have to break it at all." He threw a sharp glance down at Takano-san, who was unruffled as always. "And there _was_ no need to break it at all."

Takano-san remained impassive, but beneath his poker face Ritsu could detect stirrings of annoyance. "It was true, though, wasn't it? I don't see what the problem is."

" _Don't see what the--_ " He clenched his fists. "That doesn't matter! You didn't have to spill it so--inelegantly. Now An-chan probably has the wrong idea about us…"

Takano-san's mask dropped, and his gaze was cold where it bore into Ritsu. He swallowed thickly, but held his ground. "…What wrong idea? There's nothing to _get_ wrong." He shifted in place on the couch, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and stare up at Ritsu, somehow seeming at once vulnerable and completely in control of the situation; Ritsu hated the way Takano-san--Saga-sempai--had always been able to pin him in place, leaving him no recourse but to wait and see what would be done with him. He couldn't flee, couldn't react, couldn't reciprocate even if he wanted to. "…Or did you not want _An-chan_ to know about me, perhaps?"

The sheer shock of the unexpectedly off-the-mark probing wrenched Ritsu free of Takano-san's hold, and he released a breath in a soft huff, shifting in place and turning to walk back into the kitchen--he hated leaving dirty dishes out; it ruined his morning rhythm if he had to waste time doing them while Haru-chan had breakfast. "That's not the problem at all." He didn't worry that his voice might quaver and give him away this time--because it was one thing he was confident in.

He felt Takano-san lift up off the couch and trail after him like a curious puppy, obviously having picked up on the uncharacteristic confidence of the claim. "Oh?"

Ritsu grimaced, catching sight of the dishes already soaking in the sink and instead yanking open a cupboard for a tupperware container to store the leftover roux in. "It's not like I kept it a secret or anything." He shrugged to himself. "An-chan always knew I had…" He swallowed, cutting himself off. Best not to try and define what Saga-sempai had meant to him back then; it would only give Takano-san a big(ger) head now.

"Ah." Takano-san's exclamation was soft but genuine, and Ritsu threw a glance over his shoulder, brows knit in confusion. "So that's what she meant…"

"Eh?" He shook his head, and Ritsu turned back to his cleanup, upending the pot of roux to pour the leftovers into the plastic container he'd fished out and pressing the lid on to seal it tightly. "Anyways--" he grudgingly added as he stuffed the container into the refrigerator, "if I wanted to keep you a secret, I wouldn't have invited you over in the first place."

Takano-san seemed to like the sound of this insinuation, for his voice took on a crowing confidence, and he sidled around the counter to corner Ritsu between the sink and fridge. "Oh, so you were showing me off?"

Ritsu scowled, shifting around to face the sink and immersing himself in a familiar chore to distract from Takano-san's fishing for compliments. "Hardly." He grabbed the scrub pad and attacked a ladle first. "Just…I’m trying to get some stability back into my life and you’re not really helping." Takano-san snorted behind him, and Ritsu took his irritation out on a plate next. "Between work and keeping things almost normal with An-chan and Haru-chan and trying not to collapse from exhaustion, I just really want a little--”

Smoother than he could dodge, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye as Takano-san reached forward and cupped his chin in one palm, pulling his focus to the side as he leaned in and pressed his lips firmly to Ritsu's. Ritsu's heart leapt up into his throat, choking off any protest and refusing to pump blood to allow him to place some distance between them--leaving him little recourse but to sit there and let Takano-san deepen the kiss just enough to where it started to burn, the smooth slip of saliva quenching his dry lips and inviting him to press forward, to drop his jaw a hair and give in to the pressure.

But before he could despair that for the second time in as many weeks he was going to have to go to bed hard from a simple kiss, Takano-san released him with a soft puff of breath, raked his gaze over Ritsu as if to ascertain that he'd done a good job, and then let his lips quirk up on one side. "…Thanks for dinner."

And then he was gone, without even a backwards glance.

Ritsu's entire body gave out at once, and he squatted in place, head lodged between his knees as he took great breaths of air to calm himself, face burning and head swirling in confusion. _Fuck_ this.

He was so totally screwed.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite Ritsu's fears that letting Takano-san into his home the one time for a rather awkward dinner would lead the guy to assume he had carte blanche to come over whenever he liked, he found that the rest of the week following the Great Dinner Fiasco of 20XX was…well, rather dull.

Takano-san was holed up in meetings most every single day, as apparently two of his authors had been granted anime-version rights over the weekend and now there was a lot of work to get started on drafting scripts, hiring voice actors, and negotiating budgets--which inevitably involved calling for reprints of back issues of previous volumes and had Yokozawa-san of the sales department making his presence known in their little area of the office more often than Ritsu would've liked. He didn't know why, but he got the distinct feeling that the guy didn't like him.

Ritsu, in turn, kept himself busy with working through Mutou-sensei's old manuscripts, occasionally probing Hatori-san for advice and doing his level best to keep out of Takano-san's way, wary of what he might come up with if he thought Ritsu didn't have enough work to do.

Despite his busy schedule, though, Takano-san never let an opportunity to spend time with Ritsu or Haru-chan slip by, and like clockwork he could now be found waiting outside their apartment every morning just as they were leaving. "Like clockwork" was no exaggeration, either: Ritsu made the mistake one morning of spilling juice down his shirt, leaving him five minutes late to shuttle Haru-chan out of the apartment. Takano-san, rather than waiting patiently, instead chose to bang and kick on the door when Ritsu didn't immediately answer until he nearly tripped and broke his neck struggling to open the door and give the man a sound reaming. Such was their relationship, now, for better or worse.

He'd also adopted the rather worrisome habit of napping against Ritsu's shoulder on the train. Ritsu couldn't really blame him for being tired--he seemed to work around the clock, pausing only to sleep and eat these days--but there were limits to being tolerant of a superior's idiosyncrasies, and regardless of their relationship outside of work, Ritsu wished he'd treat their contact between the hours of 8 AM and 6 PM with the proper decorum, which definitely did _not_ involve letting Takano-san's head loll onto Ritsu's shoulder while the Mita line bounced along.

Then there were the days when Takano-san worked late and Ritsu left early on his own, irritated at the guilty twinge in his chest but ignoring it in favor of leaving with a short bow and _good work today_. He knew there would be days in the future when _he_ was the one swamped with work and Takano-san got to leave early (except Takano-san would probably have waited for him, or offered to help), so there was no need to go feeling _bad_ for not yet having such a heavy workload.

And yet…that didn't stop him from frowning when he heard feet scraping along the corridor every night as Takano-san finally dragged himself home. Nine o'clock, 9:30, 10… the hours were ridiculous, especially given that every morning, bright and early, he was posted right outside the door, waiting calmly (unless Ritsu was late) for the only time he could spare to be with Ritsu and Haru-chan without weighty work titles hanging over their heads.

On some level, it made Ritsu's chest swell with pride; he tried not to spend too much time on that level, though. Still, he did worry that the guy was spreading himself too thin, and that at some point surely he was going to realize it was stupid to keep this up, that work and taking care of himself came before trying to spend a few minutes a day buttering up Ritsu and listening to Haru-chan's idle chatter.

As it was, though, even by Friday he hadn't broken yet, and instead he cornered Ritsu just as he was preparing to leave for the weekend, one hand on his shoulder and leaning in far more closely than Ritsu was comfortable with at work (or anywhere really). "…Let me make you and Haru-chan dinner tonight."

Ritsu rolled his shoulder, overly conscious of the way his skin heated in all the places Takano-san touched him. "…Don't you have work left to do?"

"Nothing that can't wait until Monday."

Ritsu pursed his lips and glanced around--most of the others had left already, with Mino-san the only one still waiting for an author's manuscript to arrive so he could review it over the weekend. "But--you've been flat out all week. Shouldn't you go home and get some rest--?"

Takano-san snorted, crossing his arms. "This is nothing. This is _normal_ \--and if you think it's not, you're gonna be in for a rude awakening when _your_ authors start getting offers for drama CDs or anime adaptations and the like. Think of it as a learning experience." Ritsu flushed in shame; so much for feeling _sorry_ for the guy. Takano-san cocked his head. "…Why, were you worried about me?"

" _Hardly_ \--"

"Liar," he chuckled, but without much bite, and as he didn't press it, Ritsu didn't continue his objections. "Anyways, no: I don't need to go home and rest. If I did, I wouldn't have offered to make you dinner, would I?"

Ritsu pursed his lips, feeling his shoulders threatening to slump in defeat. "…You're _really_ intent on making us dinner, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "That--but mostly I want an excuse to spend time with you." Sometimes, more than the infuriating way he comported himself, it was this flippant honesty which drove Ritsu up the wall. Didn't he realize that being circumspect was a necessary aspect of human interaction, and that just admitting things like that made others feel uncomfortable? It was not helped that he followed it up with, "Plus this way I won't have to make small talk with your ex-wife."

It was a horrible idea; it could only lead to uncomfortable situations (well, more uncomfortable than already), and he somehow suspected that this time…this time, if he said no, if he declined and asked Takano-san to stop pressing this issue so much--he would comply. All he had to do to finally get the guy to understand that he didn't _want_ homecooked meals by old flames or to have to be a pillow for his next-door neighbor or anything to do with being _seduced_ (which was ridiculous; if this was Takano-san's idea of seduction, he was quite misinformed).

He swallowed, keeping his voice low to ensure that no one heard him outside of the little bubble of space that Ritsu's world seemed to have shrunk down into. "…Tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"Not tonight. Tomorrow." He pursed his lips and dared a hesitant glance over at Takano-san, who seemed to have been forced back a few paces in shock--he obviously hadn't expected Ritsu to actually _agree_. He tightened his grip on the bag he'd just draped over one shoulder. "An-chan's probably already fed Haru-chan by now anyways tonight. But--tomorrow." He couldn't keep his gaze on Takano-san for long; it felt too much like his eyes became windows and Takano-san could peek inside and see all the warring emotions vying for a chance to come forth. "An-chan'll be out of town this weekend anyways. No small talk necessary."

Takano-san blinked a few times in shock before eventually realizing he needed to actually agree to the conditions, and he breathed out softly, "…All right then. Tomorrow."

Ritsu gave one last hesitant nod before turning on his heel and practically fleeing the building, taking the stairs and wanting to curl up into a little ball when he found himself heaving when he reached the first floor.

He was twenty-five years old; he was a successful editor and a damned good father and he had a _life_. It shouldn't be _this easy_ for Takano-san to do next to nothing and have it affect Ritsu like this.

It shouldn't be--but it was.

* * *

"So what are you doing for dinner?"

Ritsu's mother pinned him with a look while she adjusted the ribbon in Haru-chan's hair, giving a silky shine to her short bob as she ran a brush through it gently to smooth down any flyways.

With An-chan gone for the weekend on business, Ritsu's mother had taken the opportunity to demand a bit of grandmother time with Haru-chan--which mostly consisted of spoiling her rotten while trotting her around the Omotesandou area with her friends. Quite possibly the only person alive who loved Haru-chan more than either of her parents was Ritsu's mother, who doted on her and lavished all the loving attention she'd apparently been stockpiling when she'd failed to get a daughter in Ritsu.

Haru-chan's cheeks were still flushed red from the lingering chill outside, but she closed her eyes in pleasure at having her grandmother brush her hair, sighing softly at the delicate ministrations. They'd been gone for most of the day, and Ritsu had used the free time to start picking through a rough draft Mutou-sensei had faxed over late Friday evening, asking for some advice on a particularly troubling patch.

Ritsu felt his throat go a bit dry with nerves. His mother hadn't been too happy about the divorce in the first place, though Ritsu had gone through great pains to remind her that it wasn't her decision. That she remained close with An-chan, he supposed, was her way of letting him know that he'd made the wrong decision and she was only biding her time, waiting for him to come around. She didn't seem entirely confident, either, that Ritsu was capably of caring for Haru-chan on his own, which likely explained why she took every available opportunity to spirit Haru-chan away and coddle her to her heart's content.

"I've finished most of the work I brought home with me, so--I was thinking of just making a simple noodle dish." He laughed softly in self-deprecation. "Even I can't screw that up."

She just _hmph_ ed in reply, one brow raised dubiously, and tapped Haru-chan on the shoulder to let her know she was done, sliding off the couch and pushing herself up as she straightened her dress. "Well--you'll let me know if you need any help? I wouldn't complain about cooking you and Haru-chan a nice dinner once in a while."

He turned away, abashed, and nodded. "We'll be fine, Mother." He resisted the urge to remind her that he wasn't a child--mostly out of concern that protesting so would only bolster that fact in her mind.

"Well then--I'll be off. Haru-chan--" She turned and squatted down as best she could, opening her arms for Haru-chan to launch herself forward, the both of them hugging each other tightly before relenting. She stiffly pushed herself back up and leaned in to press a dry kiss to Ritsu's cheek. "Call home now and then, would you? Your father worries." She was too proud to let on that she worried too.

He walked her to the door, allowing another kiss to his cheek before she bundled up in her finery and toddled out the door towards the elevator--which reached their floor a few moments later and opened to reveal Takano-san, who politely stepped out and held the door for her, giving a small nod which she returned. Two strangers passing in a hallway, utterly oblivious to the small world they lived in. Ritsu stared at the both of them, waving faintly to his mother when she caught his eye and smiled softly, but quickly snapping his hand back when Takano-san turned a confused gaze his way.

He shuffled forward, a plastic bag heavy with groceries hanging off of one arm. "…Someone you know?"

"My mother," he returned shortly. "She took Haru-chan out earlier so I could get some work done."

Takano-san nodded evenly, glancing over his shoulder into the hallway towards the living room. Ritsu followed his gaze after a moment and noticed Haru-chan peeking out tentatively.

"…You still coming over, then?"

Ritsu bristled; he didn't sound accusing at all--just genuinely curious, like he expected Ritsu to have been waiting for the opportunity to back out of this. He was _trying_ , dammit--the least the guy could do was not walk on eggshells around him. It unnerved him when Takano-san was anything less than loud and brash and demanding as he'd come to expect, and he disliked that feeling even more than he disliked having to deal with Takano-san himself. "I said I would, didn't I?"

He snorted softly and rolled his eyes. "You did; just making sure it didn't slip your mind. You can be awfully forgetful about important things." Ritsu grimaced, and this seemed to amuse him even more, reaching out to ruffle Ritsu's hair. "Come over in 10. I'll start getting set up." He shoved Ritsu backwards by the head, sending him stumbling in the genkan, and stepped over to his door without waiting for a reply.

Ritsu stared in offense as Takano-san disappeared into his apartment, continuing to glare at the closed door as if he might be able to bore a hole through it, but nothing came of it, and he soon huffed his annoyance and trudged back inside, catching Haru-chan's eye.

She stared up expectantly, brows raised, and he sighed, jerking his head to the side. "…Takano-san's making us di--"

" _Yay!!_ " she cut him off, throwing her hands in the air and executing a few short jumps that nearly had her tumbling off balance and Ritsu reaching forward quickly to keep her from falling. "We get to go to Takassan's house then??"

"It's just next door," he reminded, trying to keep a straight face, but her childish joy at the prospect of exploring the mysterious abode of the charming and handsome ~ _Takassan_ ~ was tugging at him viciously. He waved his hand. "Well, go wash your hands then."

She twirled on her heel and darted across the hall headed for the bathroom, and a moment later Ritsu caught the hissing of running water as she did as instructed. He shook his head and padded into the kitchen area, glancing around worriedly. He had an unopened bottle of wine from the new year sitting on top of the refrigerator--and it _would_ be polite of him, as a guest, to bring something for his host for the evening.

But Ritsu had been told a number of times before that he was a terrible drunk, and while it was one thing to have a glass or two around friends and family, Takano-san was neither and therefore was not going to be seeing Ritsu in any such state any time soon.

Decorum could go screw itself tonight; Takano-san would just have to be happy to have Ritsu and Haru-chan themselves, and nothing else.

* * *

"Sorry…" Ritsu apologized, flushing in mortification when Haru-chan darted past him and into Takano-san's front hallway, headed for the living room after barely pausing to remove her shoes and not even offering a proper greeting. He shifted uncomfortably, not used to having to explain himself like this. "She…probably had too many sweets when she was out with my mother earlier. She's been running full tilt since they got back…"

Takano-san cast a glance over his shoulder, one brow raised, then shrugged. "It's fine; not like I have any fine China she might break or something."

"She's excited to see your place, I think." Takano-san smiled at this, and Ritsu quickly changed the subject, shifting from one for to the other in the genkan. "A-anyways, thanks for…for dinner. You probably went out of your way--" He could already smell something delicious simmering. "--and I'm sure you had work you could've been--"

"You're doing it again, Onodera," he sighed roughly, stepping back from the genkan where he'd been practically hovering over Ritsu. "Can the work talk and stop being so damned thick. I'm obviously doing this because I want to spend time with you." Ritsu noticed his gaze gravitate towards the living room, where Haru-chan had disappeared. "With the both of you." He tossed a comment back to Ritsu as he turned and started back towards the kitchen. "Take off your shoes and come inside already."

Ritsu did as he was instructed, scrambling to slip out of his shoes and into the guest slippers Takano-san had set out--a stiff pair that didn't look like they got much use. Ritsu wondered idly who the last person to use them had been--and when.

Once passing over the threshold into the living room, it became apparent that dinner tonight was curry. An-chan made the dish at least once a week--last Wednesday had been vegetable curry, to Haru-chan's dismay--and Ritsu caught himself wondering if Takano-san had chosen it for any particular reason, or if it was simply the easiest dish to prepare on short notice.

Ritsu hesitantly offered to help if needed, but Takano-san just waved him off, saying everything was mostly done simmering already and he'd probably do more harm than good. Despite knowing full well that the comment had been intended solely to rile him up, Ritsu couldn't help the flash of annoyance at having his skills doubted, once again, by his superior. All of Takano-san's idle comments that _I trust you_ didn't seem to mean the same thing in such a situation.

Once it was ready, though, dinner was…interesting, to say the least. Takano-san seemed as skilled in his kitchen as he was in the Emerald offices, and the curry had a distinct Indian flair (no carrots to be found) rather than the typical Japanese fare Ritsu was accustomed to. He worried for a moment that this might not suit Haru-chan, who was loathe to try new dishes, but of course her beloved _Takassan_ could do no wrong, it seemed, and she dug in with vigor. Ritsu noticed that he'd kept the spice to a minimum and given it a decidedly sweet note that no doubt played to Haru-chan's tastes. He'd really thought this through.

After clearing the table, somehow they'd found themselves piling into the living room when Takano-san professed a desire to have Ritsu look over the manuscript he'd been working on himself earlier that day so that he might review the editing process in action, and Ritsu had complied after some hesitation--which he passed off as not wanting the dishes to sit in the sink. "They'll wait," Takano-san had reminded him, grabbing onto his bicep and jerking him forward. "Get in the living room and quit stalling."

And this was how Ritsu found himself sitting on one end of Takano-san's couch, flipping through a half-finished manuscript with Takano-san at his side while Haru-chan lay sprawled out on the floor on her belly, chin in her hands while her legs danced in the air as she watched some claymation educational program on NHK, thoroughly entranced and quiet as a mouse. Ritsu paused now and then in his perusing the papers Takano-san had pressed into his hand, alternating his curious gaze between Haru-chan on the floor and Takano-san at his side.

It was…probably the most domestic situation he'd found himself in in _months_. Long gone were the quiet nights when An-chan would sit on the couch braiding Haru-chan's hair and humming to herself while Ritsu reviewed one of Usami-sensei's drafts, taking for granted then the quiet comfort of family. This was hardly what he might have expected would eventually replace those memories--a shoddy imitation, at best--but there was something…almost endearing about the way Takano-san looked so out of place right now.

He was a man best suited for ruling with an iron fist from behind a large desk piled high with half-finished checks and project proposals, barking out orders and sending Ritsu running off to make copies of materials for meetings he had no place in. Now, though, he was slumped against the back of his couch, eyes low and lidded behind thick-rimmed glasses that made him look older than his twenty-eight years, concentrating hard on his work from the furrow in his brows and yet still doing his best--consciously or not--to keep his side pressed up against Ritsu's, the points of contact warm along the line of their bodies. Every few moments, he'd shift in place and cross one leg over the other, and then back, being sure to brush them against Ritsu's--probably on purpose.

Ritsu stiffened when Takano-san's sharp gaze flicked up over his glasses to catch Ritsu unawares, pinning him. "What?"

Ritsu swallowed thickly and reached forward onto the low table, grabbing a few more panels and clearing his throat. "Nothing--sorry. It's late, I guess I kind of spaced out…"

Takano-san snorted beside him. "Idiot." Ritsu would've been more offended, except it sounded genuinely amused and nothing like the comments of _Idiot_ he routinely endured at Marukawa. Still, this knowledge didn't exactly make him feel any more comfortable.

He regrouped and took a breath, reminding himself to focus on the task he'd been assigned--and for a while, it worked. With each new panel Takano-san finished, it was handed off to Ritsu, sometimes with an explanatory comment or a simple, "Pay attention to the upper right," and Ritsu could pretend it was just a private lesson at work.

Shortly, though, he felt the cushion dip beside him and glanced over in time to see Takano-san gently set the remaining few panels he held down on the table, creeping slowly around to where Haru-chan lay sprawled out on his floor: she was asleep.

He held his breath, watching silently as Takano-san angled his arms underneath her tiny body and lifted her up, cradling her to his chest and jerking his head for Ritsu to follow him. Setting his own panels on top of Takano-san's, he padded quietly across the room after the man, back down the hall where he slid on his loafers and reached down to pick up Haru-chan's shoes. With a silent apology for not helping with the dishes, he followed Takano-san out the door.

Takano-san seemed to have acquainted himself with Ritsu's apartment rather thoroughly by now, and he would have been irked at the observation under other circumstances, but just now, traipsing along behind Takano-san as he padded through the living room into the little guest room off to the side where Haru-chan slept, he couldn't summon the energy.

It was just…surreal, really. Takano-san-- _Takano-san_ \--brushing a clump of hair out of Haru-chan's eyes and giving her a final smile that even _Ritsu_ would've been embarrassed to sport, it was just not done on a man like him.

He was supposed to be coarse and loud and self-absorbed, ignoring Ritsu's wishes in favor of indulging in his own selfish desires. Ritsu couldn't _handle_ this kind of gentleness, this kind of earnest devotion, this kind of _hope_ that Ritsu honestly didn't know he could ever return.

Even though he'd been working himself sick all week (he could brush it off all he liked, but even Kisa-san and the others had seemed a bit taken aback at the rate he was pacing himself), even though he probably still had a mountain of paperwork and checks to get through before the five meetings he had scheduled on Monday, even though he had absolutely no obligation to even _speak_ to Ritsu outside of the Marukawa building…he'd gone out of his way to clear his evening and cook them dinner just because he wanted to spend time with them for some inexplicable reason, despite Ritsu's bristling attitude and Haru-chan's constant babbling that would grate even the steadiest of nerves.

There was a soft click as Takano-san shut the door behind him, finding Ritsu sitting slumped on his own couch, staring at the floor in vain hope that it might help him decide just what he was supposed to _do_.

He felt rather than heard Takano-san move closer, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that he was leafing through the draft of Mutou-sensei's Ritsu had been perusing earlier that day. "…This draft…" Ritsu glanced up, gaze shifting from the papers to Takano-san's calculating eyes and back. "Finish your check and bring it with you on Monday. We should go over it before you progress any further." He tossed the bound sheaf back onto the table, and Ritsu let his gaze drop with the same finality.

He griped at Ritsu to stop treating him like they were in the office…and then in the same breath tossed out comments like this. It was so damned _confusing_ \--couldn't he understand that Ritsu was getting emotional whiplash from all of this?

He swallowed thickly, continuing to stare at the floor and following the maze-like winding wood grain with his eyes. "…Why are you doing this?" There was a soft creaking that fell silent almost immediately as Takano-san shifted his weight standing beside Ritsu. "You know I don’t want to be in a relationship--I've told you a dozen times." He closed his eyes and willed his heart to stop beating so frantically. "Are you just hoping that somehow I’ll--I'm not sure, fall for your devilish charm or something?”

There was a beat of silence as Ritsu's pathetic outburst died away--and Takano-san responded at length, “Sitting around doing nothing but hoping is fruitless. You don't deserve to reap any benefits from not doing shit. I make what I want to happen _happen_.”

Ritsu opened his eyes to glance up at Takano-san out of the corner of his eye, frowning as he cocked his head to the side at an angle. “Even when the other person doesn’t want it?”

Takano-san stuffed his hands in his pocket, pose reflecting his lazy confidence. “I would never do that. So that must mean that you _do_ want it. On some level, at least.” Ritsu bitterly recalled Takano-san's routine reminders of just what he needed to do to make the man leave him alone.

He grimaced, muttering, “…That doesn’t make any sense at all.” Takano-san just shrugged, disaffected. “...Haru-chan likes you.” He wasn't sure what he mentioned that for, but somehow it seemed to need to be said.

“Unfortunately I’m seeing someone else.”

Ritsu flushed, huffing in irritation, “We’re _not_ dating."

“And whose fault is that?” was the suddenly snapped reply, and now Takano-san didn't seem at all lazy or disaffected or calm--his ire and annoyance seeping through tangibly from his voice. He shook his head as if only just now realizing something. “You’re a weird guy, Onodera." He waved one hand in Ritsu's general direction. "You used to be so-- _wrapped up_ in me you couldn’t even look me in the eye, going on about how it would take three days to explain why you liked me and walking around on eggshells every time we were together because you were convinced I was just biding my time 'til I got tired of you and tossed you by the wayside." He frowned, as if now remembering these scenes in vivid detail in his mind's eye and not liking the look of it one bit. "You went out of your way to make me fall in love with you without even realizing it--and then…you cut me off. And now…”

Ritsu felt his chest clench in guilt, brows knitting with protests perched on his lips--protests that would stay just where they were, too, as he really had no place to refute any of this.

Takano-san sighed, staring down at him forlornly, and the defeat in his voice was audible. “And now you’re doing it again. Making me fall in love with you without even realizing it…while trying to cut me off at the same time." He ran one hand through his hair and then wiped it over his face, massaging the bridge of his nose. “…Maybe I’m the idiot for still trying.”

For his part, though, Ritsu had had quite enough of this, and his mouth opened wide, emotions forcing words out that he hadn't even properly policed in his mind: “Of--of _course_ you’re an idiot for trying!" He bit his lips--his own apartment or no, Takano-san was still his boss, and it wasn't wise to call your boss an idiot--even if he was a colossal one. "Just-- _anyone_ would give up after all of that! But you keep...talking to me and-- _touching_ me and telling me you want to be with me...”

His head slumped between his drawn shoulders, and he felt himself grow very small, face flushed with emotion. “…It’s just as frustrating for me, you know," he reminded petulantly, no longer caring that he sounded like a child little older than Haru-chan. "After high school…it felt like I’d never get over the humiliation, thinking you’d only been playing with me. I just--I'd hoped that maybe having a normal life, a normal _family_ would help block out everything I wanted to forget.” And he'd wanted to forget-- _so_ badly. He pressed his face into his hands. “And now you want to make me remember it all again…”

Takano-san couldn't possibly understand the roller coaster he'd taken to get this far, the constant ups that were never as high as they could have been and downs that felt lower than they really were--every aspect of his life and dreams and ambitions tempered by a shock he'd never quite recovered from. It would be a lie to say he'd missed Saga-sempai, but there was no denying that he'd missed what _could have been_.

After a long, tense pause, Takano-san swallowed audibly. "…I don't want to make you remember, Ritsu." Ritsu shuddered, stomach clenching at his name dropped so casually and yet so meaningfully. "I want you to _want_ to remember." Ritsu clenched his eyes shut, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes to blot everything out, and at this, Takano-san sighed. "…But I guess that’s a tall order." Another soft squeak from the floorboards as Takano-san shifted in place beside him. "And you’ve made it clear on multiple occasions you don’t want to go back. So--I…apologize."

A this Ritsu glanced up abruptly, vision dotted with splashes of color and Takano-san's face blurred by shifting shades of blues and purples hazing his vision. He started to say something, but his words caught in his throat, and his mind couldn't imagine what he was supposed to say anyways.

He couldn't make out the expression on Takano-san's face through his swimming vision, but he could hear his voice just fine--strained and yet irrationally calm, like a dam holding back a river. "I'm sorry. For going this far." He swallowed. "I hope it won’t affect your work--and I’ll try not to bother you again like this--"

Ritsu panicked, fingers twitching as he reached out desperately and clenched them tight with inhuman force around the jacket hem he'd grazed. He tugged pathetically and gazed up, finally able to make out Takano-san's shocked face, ringed in light. "…You’re giving up now? When you’re so close?”

"…Eh?"

Grimacing at his actions but unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and pressed his face into the fabric at Takano-san's hip, breathing in and releasing a shuddering breath. His words would be muffled this way--probably for the best. "…I don't…even know what it _means_ to be in a relationship with someone. It was never like it was with you when I was with An-chan." He shook his head. "We were never...she always just loved _me_. I couldn’t feel the same for her, even though I wanted to." He tightened his grip and turned his head just to the side, taking a breath. "…I didn’t want you to be the only person I’d ever loved… It hurt too much, thinking like that."

The leg beneath him pulled away abruptly, shifting to the side and pressing forward until Takano-san was balancing one knee on the couch and pushing Ritsu back until he slumped back against the cushion, staring up in worried confusion but not resisting at all when Takano-san bent down with obvious intent and pressed his lips to Ritsu's, pausing just at the joining to relish the moment and smiling when Ritsu whimpered against his lips and brought his hands up to fist in the light t-shirt Takano-san had pulled on for their dinner.

The kiss deepened--a tongue slipping between them to press for entrance, easily granted and welcomed. Ritsu breathed in sharply, unconsciously tugging on Takano-san's shirt to try and pull him further forward, to bring them even closer together.

But Takano-san braced on hand against the back of the couch, gentling the kiss even as Ritsu tried to escalate it, and he pulled back slowly, letting their foreheads rest against one another while they took deep breaths to slow their racing pulses.

"…I’m perfectly fine with you thinking like that. Then I don’t have to be the only one who feels that way between us.”

Ritsu frowned at the reminder, flushing deeply for more reasons than one, but kept his grasp on the shirt material clutched in his fingers. "…I don't want Haru-chan to get hurt."

“I thought you said she loves me?”

Ritsu nodded meekly, dropping his eyes. “So…don’t do something stupid again.”

He couldn't bring himself to look up and meet Takano-san's gaze, but he didn't need to--he could hear the amusement in his voice. “Then you’ll have to tell me when I start to do something stupid. I trust you're a good judge of that."

Ritsu pursed his lips, steeling himself--and then flinched, glancing up in surprise when he felt a pair of warm, dry lips brush against his cheek with a soft smack. "…But I’m serious about the check. Finish it. I’ll see you on Monday."

And with that, he swanned out of Ritsu's apartment in a flourish, leaving Ritsu more confused and conflicted than he'd been even ten minutes ago.

What exactly had he opened himself up to _now_?


	8. Chapter 8

Onodera was less fidgety today than usual.

Masamune wasn't quite sure _why_ , as the guy usually seemed perpetually on edge around him for reasons unknown, but today he was particularly out of it, offering up only half-hearted sounds of agreement or acknowledgement to Haru-chan as the three strolled together down the steep hill leading up to Meika Kindergarten.

Onodera's uncharacteristic lethargy didn't seem to deter his daughter in the least, though, and she swung their arms--one of Masamune's and Onodera's in either hand--as she marched them along to a beat only she could hear, regaling Masamune with a fascinating tale their teacher had read them after lunch time the previous afternoon, involving a prince being rescued on the battlefield by his fair maiden disguised as one of his own men. She seemed to have found it terribly romantic, despite her classmates' insistence that it was _mushy stuff_ , and went on to defend her opinion in that she liked stories about handsome princes and strong, proud princesses.

Masamune _hmm_ ed softly and squeezed her hand, glancing down. "Then maybe I'll find some of our works at the office and have your dad bring them home. You can practice reading with them."

This seemed to snap Onodera out of whatever mood he was in, and he flushed in offense, piping up, "No--no way! You're not going to fill my daughter's head with inane fluff that'll rot her mind--"

But Haru-chan cut him off, eyes going wide and sparkling with excitement. "Really?! Do you have ones with princesses?? And adventures? And--and magic and stuff?"

Masamune snorted, cocking his head in thought. Princesses hardly came up much in the standard shoujo fare, and most of _Emerald_ 's titles were _hardly_ age-appropriate for a five-year-old even if she could read them on her own. But--he was never one to let an opportunity to rile Onodera up pass by, so he allowed easily, "Absolutely--I'll have my authors get you signed copies of their latest pieces, how does that sound?" He glanced over at Onodera with a knowing smile. "Haru-chan would _love_ Ichinose-sensei's most recent title, don't you think?" Erika-sama wasn't nearly as bad as Yoshino-sensei, but some of her stuff could get _quite_ racy at times--a fact Onodera knew well.

His flush deepened to a shade reflecting his embarrassment and rising ire. "That's-- _absolutely not_ \--" he started, but was quickly cut off again by Haru-chan whining _Why noooot?_ and tugging on his arm. The rest of the journey was filled with Onodera trying to calm Haru-chan down and delicately explain that she wasn't quite old enough yet to read some of the books her father and 'Takano-san' worked on, a fact which she protested greatly.

Masamune watched them in silent amusement, his 'work' for the morning now done; it was one thing to watch Onodera get worked up and overwhelmed inside the office, and it was another to see him thoroughly whipped by a little girl who could barely write her own name legibly. He imagined that, had he a bit more confidence to him, Onodera would be one of those annoying parents who fawned over their kids and built their whole lives around coddling the little bundles of joy--but as it was, his pride in his daughter only showed itself in the softness his gaze took on when she smiled and the gentle lilt that entered his voice, which he himself probably didn't even realize, whenever he spoke to or about her.

Masamune noticed, though--largely because it was in these moments that he was reminded _so much_ of the Ritsu he'd loved before, the one that, he had to accept, he would probably never be able to hold again. No matter the attitude Onodera adopted around his daughter, he would not soon be so free around Masamune himself--and while Masamune was quickly growing to not mind this fact so much, given that he was finding himself quite taken with the man Onodera had become…it still left him with a tightness in his chest as he watched Onodera crouch low, lick his finger to wipe a spot of dirt from Haru-chan's cheek, and tug on one pigtail before clapping her on the back and sending her through the gates to be with her friends.

No, he wasn't going to get back _that_ Ritsu--but it didn't mean that this man, this _Onodera_ , was any less worthy of his love and respect. He could still see Ritsu in the way his eyes grew wide in surprise and in the flush of his cheeks, could still see him in the way he stammered and stuttered and remained frustratingly polite in all situations, could still see him in the compassion and professionalism he showed others while coming utterly undone around Masamune. So what did it matter if he was a little more prickly, a little less easily wooed? All of the important parts were still there, and somehow Masamune found himself feeling closer to Onodera now, in every sense, than he'd ever been with Ritsu. Which was saying something.

What, he just couldn't quite articulate.

* * *

Ritsu frowned, warm and comfortable, when he felt something pressing into his personal bubble with irritating persistence, a voice muffled and unintelligible at first, but with the passing seconds growing more insistent and sharper, cutting through the black din of his consciousness and pulling him into the waking world with, " _Onodera!_ "

Ritsu snapped awake, neck turning at an awkward angle and sending a stab of pain splintering down his spine, forcing him to wince in agony and slap a hand to his neck to rub the cramp away. "Wh-what?"

"Sengoku's next; you nodded off." Takano-san, of course, huffing in exasperation and frowning down at Ritsu where he glanced up and about, bleary-eyed and confused. "…You've been out of it all day." If Ritsu had been more in control of his faculties at the moment, he would've winced, remembering how he'd slipped on a discarded manga panel that had fallen to the floor and earned a nasty twist to his ankle on top of sending the 100 pages of carefully collated meeting materials flying across the office.

Instead, he rubbed at both eyes and strained to set himself sitting up straight--it was embarrassing enough he'd been leaning against Takano-san for the short trip. "I dunno what's wrong…maybe the stress is finally catching up to me…"

Takano-san snorted next to him, but his response held little of his characteristic bite. "You're pushing yourself too hard; pace yourself more and it won't fall so heavy on you."

Ritsu mustered up a frown, offering Takano-san a nasty glare as he deadpanned, "Just who do you think it is making me work this hard, hm?" And while it typically wasn't something someone in Ritsu's position should be saying to their boss, Takano-san was hardly a typical boss. To soften the complaint, though, he followed it up with, "I don't want to fall behind the others, though. I've got fewer authors than anyone else, even--if I can't handle this workload, I'll never be an adequate editor."

The train screeched to a halt, the doors opening with a hiss, and Takano-san shifted in place to push himself up, popping the collar on his coat against the wind they'd encounter once they mounted the steps outside. "Mmm, so you _want_ to be an adequate editor of shoujo manga now, is what you're saying?"

Ritsu shuffled off with far less elegance, slumping low as he walked and still nursing a sore neck. "I don't half-ass any job I do, even if I don't think I'm suited for it." Not that it was possible to half-ass anything under Takano-san's watch; he didn't take kindly to anyone slacking, and regardless, Ritsu would've felt guilty for dragging the others down and reflecting poorly on his authors.

In front of him, Takano-san shook his head from side to side in a slow, patronizing motion. "It's that attitude that makes me want to give you even more work, you know."

Ritsu bristled. "So you _do_ do it on purpose!"

He released a loud bark of laughter, drawing cool expressions from onlookers, and Ritsu flushed at the commotion. "You only just figured it out?"

"I--then, you're deliberately undermining me?"

"I'm keeping you on your toes. You're cute when you're flustered and running all over the place."

Ritsu grit his teeth at this. "I'll thank you to keep your work and personal feelings separate."

Takano-san just shrugged ambivalently. "Don't want to." As if that was that. They stumbled out into the dim haze of early evening at the exit nearest their apartment, jaywalking across the main road to head up the hill for home. Ritsu stuffed his hands into his coat pockets, wishing he hadn't packed away his winter wear already, as he'd kill for a pair of gloves just now. At length, he could feel someone watching him and glanced to the side, finding Takano-san studying him carefully. "…You should take some time for yourself now and then."

Ritsu huffed derisively and stepped up his pace. "And when exactly am I supposed to do that given that my every waking moment is filled with either work or Haru-chan?" A ruse; it wasn't as if he _couldn't_ make time for himself if he wanted…but time for himself was time _by_ himself, time spent brooding and over-thinking and getting caught up in _did I make the right choice_ and _oh god I definitely made the wrong choice_ , and none of that was fun. Ritsu should know--he'd done it often enough.

Next to him, Takano-san shrugged--barely perceptible under his heavy coat. "Let your wife take Haru-chan for the weekend; do something for yourself. Sleep in, get a massage." He paused, adding with a small smile. "Let me take you out."

Ritsu huffed a wry laugh. "Right--except my internal clock wakes me up early anyways, regardless of when I go to bed, and I don't care for massages."

"Then I guess that really only leaves one choice, doesn't it?"

"I'm _not_ going on a--a _date_ with you, Takano-san; it's hardly appropri--"

"Who said anything about a date?" he returned easily, keeping his gaze forward. "Co-workers can't go out for a drink together?"

"I'm a bad drunk, I'm told," Ritsu reminded thickly, flushing; god, what if Takano-san really _had_ meant it just as a platonic thing? Now _Ritsu_ was the one jumping the gun and it made him look overly sensitive, like he was _hiding_ something. "Besides, like I said, it's not appropriate for--" He glanced at Takano-san out of the corner of his eye. "--For someone in your position and someone in my position to have a private drink between coworkers."

"Fine," Takano-san allowed after a short silence, sighing as he conceded defeat. "...We can call it a date, then."

Ritsu's shoulders slumped, and he felt a headache bearing down on him. " _Takano-san_..." But the guy was already keying in the passcode to their building and breezing through the front doors into the lobby, frowning as he peeked into his letter box and found it empty. Ritsu traipsed after him, knowing he needed to check his own mail but desperate not to lose Takano-san who was already headed for the elevator. "You can't just--make decisions like that on your own!"

"Then _you_ make some." He threw Ritsu an impassive glance. "I really don't care whose suggestion it is so long as I get to take you out to dinner Saturday evening." The car dinged its arrival, and Takano-san stepped on, arching a brow when Ritsu hesitated, ambivalent for a few moments, before piling in beside him. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Like you--" _care for my own good_ , he started to say, but cut himself off. Hadn't he told himself he'd stop this? Hadn't he promised that he'd try _\--try_ to be more obliging, more open? Just because he didn't know what it meant to be involved with someone didn't mean it was impossible to learn, and for someone as genuinely earnest (if admittedly an utter asshole about the whole process) as Takano-san... Ritsu owed him a fair chance, even if he didn't quite like the prospect of having his life thrown into greater disarray than it already was. He swallowed and amended, "...Like you know what's good for me. I'm not a child."

"You have to admit, sometimes Haru-chan acts more mature than _you_ , though." He fished around in his pocket and pulled out his apartment key, sliding it home in the lock and jerking his door open, tossing back before he disappeared inside, "Get rid of the kid by 6. I'll drive."

* * *

Ritsu knew full well that caving like this was only giving Takano-san hope Ritsu wasn't entirely sure he could fulfill, and that the humane thing would've been to have approached him sometime before Saturday, pulled him aside, and explained that really, he would try and accept this, would not deny that some part of him _did_ admittedly wish he hadn't been so hasty in his youth, but that this was too much too fast and he needed a few more quiet nights at home with Haru-chan perhaps doing checks while Takano-san sat with him on the couch, a few more mornings of shared solitude as they made the long trek to the station after dropping off Haru-chan. _Time_ to accept this and let this man into his life slowly, easily, comfortably.

Yet he did no such thing--because he was too much of a coward--and as Takano-san would never likely take a hint on his own, Ritsu was left with no choice but to ask An-chan's parents if perhaps they might like to have Haru-chan for the weekend, as An-chan was off on business and Ritsu had some 'work' he needed to attend to. He hoped it didn't sound as blatant a lie to them as it did to Ritsu, but if it did, they revealed no hint of knowing, seemingly only thrilled to be allowed a rare span of time with their granddaughter.

He mentally apologized to Haru-chan for what he was pawning her off on her grandparents to go do--though for what, he didn't quite know. A preemptive apology seemed merited, though, when he was about to lay himself bare and let Takano-san drag him around in what he probably thought was an effective strategy to sweep Ritsu off his feet.

His cell phone buzzed at 5:45, warning Ritsu that Takano-san would be knocking in fifteen minutes. Ritsu took this rather seriously, having been party to Takano-san's brand of ensuring punctuality on many a morning, and by five minutes til, he was suited up in a sports jacket, as suggested by Takano-san, and pulling on a coat over it.

The man had been frustratingly mum about where they were heading, and given that Takano-san was going to be behind the wheel the whole time, there was little chance of Ritsu divining their destination on the way there. Giving himself a final once-over in the mirror hanging near the genkan, he took a deep breath and ordered his heart to stop that inane skipping of beats when the doorbell rang with a soft _pin-pon_ , reaching forward to greet his "guest."

And of course Takano-san looked _beautiful_ , as sleek and slick and not-a-hair-out-of-place as it was possible for any one man to look. His coat was draped over one arm, leaving him standing on Ritsu's doorstep in a black blazer and tie over a white dress shirt with black slacks--simple elegance, as if to say _anything else would detract from your staring at me._ Ritsu hoped he wasn't gaping--because that would just be the perfect cherry on this horrific dessert, and _why_ had he agreed to this when Takano-san was _Takano-san_ and he was and would always be _Ritsu_ , the fumbling, bumbling kid two years his junior who blushed too easily and got tongue-tied around the object of his affections and couldn't possibly stand tall and straight beside someone so--so--

"Are we going, or are you just going to stare at me for another half hour and we'll call it an evening?"

Ritsu realized, mortification taking root, that he'd let his eyes wander without reason, and after opening and closing his mouth a few times to try and fib his way out of the mess, he just swallowed his pride, stepped out, and kept his head ducked as he focused on locking the door.

If Takano-san took offense at being ignored, he didn't show it, though, instead starting down the hallway towards the elevator and pressing the down button. Ritsu followed behind him at length, keeping a wary distance as he tried to compose himself. He was reminded sickeningly of his and Saga-sempai's first time eating out together--the way his stomach had felt at once like it was filled with lead and with butterflies, how he had honestly feared that anything he put into his mouth was going to be subsequently vomited back up from nerves, how he'd only managed to survive the entire ordeal with his pride intact thanks to the distraction of conversation allowing him to forget _who_ he was sitting across from and instead focus on books and reading magazine serializations of Usami-sensei's work.

He took a slow, deep breath, closing his eyes and counting down from ten--and was interrupted at "4" by the dinging of the elevator car. He slowly trundled on in Takano-san's footsteps and took a place at the back, staring down at his feet while Takano-san pressed the button for the basement garage level.

The silence was thick and tense between them, and Ritsu couldn't help but think this was the worst way for this whole ordeal to start off--you were supposed to _look forward_ to dinner with someone you liked (even if that someone was Takano-san, who was not an easy person to like at all), not approach it like an execution chamber. He blinked several times, feeling his face heat up with frustration at himself, at the situation, at all the decisions he'd made in his life that had led him to this point.

"What'd you do with the kid?"

Ritsu glanced up, face a mask of confusion, and he wasn't even sure he'd properly understood the question. "I…Haru-chan?" A nod. "Ah…" He licked his lips and squared his shoulders, struggling to pull himself together and keep his voice from shaking. "I asked An-chan's parents to watch her for the weekend." The weekend--not just the evening. Not that this mattered.

Takano-san didn't seem to think this of any note, though, and just nodded with a soft _hmm_ of acknowledgement. The silence continued, and Ritsu groped for something to say--anything, anything benign and innocent and that wouldn't lead them to argue, just _something_ to take his mind off the situation, that would make him forget he was willingly giving in to Takano-san's advances despite knowing how poorly it had turned out the first time. Despite knowing the fallout would be all the harder to deal with this time.

They stepped out of the car in concert, Ritsu's steps a pitiful attempt at mimicking Takano-san's own before him, stiff and stilted where his were long, comfortable strides. It was impossible to not feel so utterly out of place and exposed right now, as if any minute now Takano-san was going to turn around, finally see Ritsu for the ragged bundle of nerves he was now, devoid of all the youthful inexperience and wide-eyed hope he'd had in spades at fifteen, and wonder what on earth he'd been thinking wasting his Saturday night like this.

Before him, there was the harsh crackle of a shoe sole turning against the concrete, and suddenly Takano-san wasn't walking in front of him anymore but was turned to face him, staring down with warring emotions on his face before breaking the tension and reaching forward, grabbing Ritsu's jaw on either side and pressing their lips together gently but firmly, pressure enough to elicit a frantic gasp from Ritsu that forced his lips apart and gave entrance for one thorough swipe of Takano-san's tongue across the ridge of his teeth--quickly retracted with a brush over the seam of his lips as Takano-san pulled back just far enough so that his face didn't blur in Ritsu's immediate vision.

His face was burning--or maybe it was Takano-san that was burning, because his fingers along Ritsu's jaw and neck felt like brands. He swallowed thickly, cursing himself when his voice came out in a shaky high falsetto, "Wh--what are you--"

"Because you're shaking like a leaf and looking like you're afraid I'm going to jump you at any minute. That's what you were worried about, right? So--I went ahead and got it over with." He shifted on his heel again and let his fingers fall away, stuffing one in his pants pocket to pull out his car keys. "Maybe now you can enjoy the evening." He favored Ritsu with a final sweeping glance before continuing on to the car he'd parked in a corner of the garage, the silence of the car park rent with the loud screeching beep of the lock disengaging.

Ritsu willed his feet to move beneath him, and after some concentration, they eventually obeyed--leaving Ritsu to focus on the steady plod of his heavy feat against cool concrete leading him towards the vehicle of his doom rather than on the way his tongue swiped frantically at the fading heat on his lips, desperate for another taste of the cool, minty bite of Takano-san's toothpaste covering the bitter tobacco aftertaste of his cigarettes.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

While Ritsu hadn't entirely approved with Takano-san's methodology, he had to admit that the seemingly insane logic…had actually worked, to an extent. With the tension (sexual and otherwise) broken thus, albeit barbarically, Ritsu could easily slip back into his wary but comfortable caution he normally practiced around Takano-san without seeming too standoffish.

The car ride was silent, as expected, and Ritsu distracted himself with the soft droning hum of the car speeding along the expressway along a route only Takano-san knew--until the man broke the silence again. "Where's your wife?"

"Ex-wife," Ritsu reminded sullenly; why Takano-san couldn't seem to remember that aspect of Ritsu's life when he seemed obsessed with so many other details was beyond him. Hell, he would've expected the guy to block it out rather than to keep harping on the point. "And--business takes her to Kansai a lot." He didn't elaborate on what business, and Takano-san didn't ask, seeming to have gotten the point that An-chan was the last person he wanted to be discussing just right now. "Works out for me since I get to have Haru-chan most weekends." He added as an afterthought, "…when I'm not being whisked off to who-knows-where by you, I suppose."

Takano-san smiled at this, eyes trained ahead and the streetlights passing over them reflected in bright glints in his glasses. "Told you this is for your own good; you should be thanking me."

"I'll try to contain my enthusiasm," he grumbled softly, directing his gaze out the window and watching the bits of Tokyo that peeped up over the railing fly by. He idly wondered how Takano-san had afforded such a nice car on his salary, which couldn't be _that_ much better than what Ritsu was pulling in now (and therefore nothing to brag about)--but Saga-sempai had seemed a rather frugal sort, interested mostly in books and quiet leisure rather than karaoke outings or buying the latest video game that the others at school seemed to work themselves up into a frenzy over. Maybe that held true even now and Takano-san indulged in these fineries only now and then.

He cocked his head to the side, eyeing Takano-san warily, and swallowed. "So…where are we going?"

"Secret."

Ritsu felt his ire rising--even though he'd expected it. "I'm part of this date, too, you know," he reasoned evenly, "I have a right to know what I've gotten myself into."

"Then trust me that I'll make it good." His smile from before evolved into a confident smirk, and he added, "We can always go to Subway again. I'd like to see if you've gotten any better at ordering a sandwich."

Ritsu flushed at the mortifying memory, groaning aloud. "That was--a legitimately harrowing experience! You dragged me in there knowing I'd never been--"

"You _wanted_ to go! You'd been dithering around outside trying to make up your mind for five minutes before I came along."

" _Still!_ " Ritsu huffed, reliving the memory in his head and finding it all the more embarrassing the second time around, especially since Takano-san didn't seem at all shy in regaling Ritsu with his thoughts on that first--

Date. It had been a date. Maybe they hadn't thought of it then, and maybe it wasn't exactly what one might picture when the word was brought up--but Ritsu had been nervous beyond measure not because the girl taking his order had asked him more questions than his English exam earlier that afternoon but because he was there, in that casual atmosphere, sharing a meal with _Saga-sempai_ , and not as friends or acquaintances or sempai and kouhai but with the knowledge that Ritsu felt romantic attraction and while it might not exactly be returned in full force it certainly hadn't been rejected flat out.

So--it was a date, albeit in perhaps the loosest sense: an outing to divine mutual attraction and thereby cement a relationship between two parties.

And this…this was their second date, he supposed. They hadn't been together long enough to manage to make it outside of the library or Saga-sempai's bedroom (or had much reason to, either), and so they'd been left in some limbo where all they knew of each other was a jumble of misinformation--names that weren't real, hobbies that didn't exist--with the truest bits of themselves exchanged only when skin touched skin and Saga-sempai whispered in his ear _I love you, Ritsu_.

Takano-san told him now that he hadn't been lying. That somehow, it had been true. Ritsu couldn't quite comprehend it, but…he believed him, that Saga-sempai had loved him in his own way, maybe in the way he loved a good book, in that he was comfortable with Ritsu (even if Ritsu was _never_ comfortable with him) and found peace in Ritsu's unwavering if overly sensitized reactions to each and every thing he did.

Except Ritsu wasn't that person any more. It wasn't _cute_ to be prickly at twenty-five or jaded and snubbing relationships handed to him on a silver platter. It wasn't remotely attractive to slap away outstretched hands and bite off the heads of genuinely interested parties. And above all, it wasn't desirable to be divorced before thirty with a kid in tow waiting for an old flame to help pick up the pieces of a life that Ritsu hadn't even wanted to build in the first place.

What did Takano-san even _see_ in Ritsu now, anyways?

He was pulled back to the present when Takano-san slowed the car to a crawl, taking a ticket from a teller machine as he pulled into the darkened car park beneath a department store and slowly made the rounds looking for an open spot. Ritsu had been zoning out and hadn't paid attention to where they'd pulled into--but it was popular, wherever they were.

The inlaid wooden sign hanging in the mirrored elevator when they boarded after managing to find a space revealed that they were in Ginza's Marronnier Gate, likely headed for the restaurants on the topmost floors. Ritsu quite liked Ginza--the old-world European glitzy style coupled with the distinctly 19th-century feel of old Japan, all bundled up tight and lined with furs and high-class brands that Ritsu didn't feel he earned enough to even _window_ -shop, let alone shop for material goods.

"French or Italian?"

Ritsu jumped at suddenly being spoken to. "Eh?"

"Brasserie Paul Bocuse, or Da Peppino?"

The names may has well have been a foreign language unto themselves--and Ritsu wracked his brain. Which sounded more expensive and therefore well out of his price range? French was--that was pricey, right? It smacked of high-class fare and haute couture, none of which were affordable for a low-ranking shoujo manga editor--or even a fairly high-ranking shoujo manga editor-in-chief. But then, Takano-san had been the one to suggest it, so perhaps he was freer with his wallet than Ritsu. Italian seemed cheaper on first thought--but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

But then--what about ordering? _What if the menus weren't in Japanese_? This seemed like a pretty classy place, and suddenly Ritsu was flashing back to the harrowing experience of trying to order a simple sandwich; it would be like that, but _ten times worse_ because he was a grown man and this was _stupid Saga-sempai_ still and--

He rubbed the heel of his palm into one eye, wincing at the headache already forming. "I…Italian's fine…" he allowed, hoping 'Peppino' wasn't Italian for 'more than you can afford, cheapskate'.

* * *

"You could've had _one glass_ ," Takano-san reminded him for the third time in as many minutes. "Just 'cause I'm driving doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself a little. Besides--it was Italian. The point is to never be sober when you're having fine Italian. They drench half the menu in liquor of some sort anyways."

"It wouldn't have been polite," Ritsu maintained resolutely, picking up his pace. It was a lie, of course; dinner had been delicious (and modestly priced for an establishment of the calibre they'd frequented) and the waiter had been rather pushy with pressing them to try the chef's recommended wine for the shrimp pasta Ritsu had selected, but Takano-san was refraining given that they'd come by car, and Ritsu was placed in the awkward situation of being the only one indulging. It had been for the best, though; while one glass wouldn't have hurt anything, Ritsu didn't trust himself not to go overboard given the state of his nerves, and being drunk around Takano-san was not a prospect he wanted to imagine. Who _knew_ what kinds of situations he could get himself into if he allowed that to happen...

Pulling his jacket tighter around himself, he ignored the little half skip Takano-san took to bring himself up alongside Ritsu as they wandered the streets of Ginza at dusk, letting their meal settle and freeing themselves from the cramped confines of the restaurant plaza. All around them, jet-setting, trendy young women and their friends--male and female alike--chatted and window-shopped, squealing over the new displays of Dior and Gucci merchandise and prodding each other to _go on, you've got to try the new Chanel scent_.

Ritsu frowned, pulling unconcsciously closer to Takano-san. He didn't belong here; this place was young and vibrant and loud and beautiful, and he was none of these things. Sure--he fit the age profile of those likely to frequent this area, but he was no more fit to walk these neon-lit streets than he would've been ten years ago. He appreciate the gesture from Takano-san (even if he was loath to admit it), but...

"Ah." The noise of surprise caught in his throat, and he pressed to the inside edge of the sidewalk, drawing up short in front of a display window, dressed up for the upcoming cherry blossom season and decorated with a mannequin family settling down for a picnic in the park, a father tossing his young daughter in the air while the mother watched from where she sat primly on a blanket in the astroturf grass, all three members adorned in the spring fashions sure to catch the eye of the young couples who frequented the area. He glanced up at the child mannequin again, frown softening into one of disappointed longing. "Haru-chan'd look good in that."

"You're her father; you're supposed to think she'd look good in anything." He paused, then whistled lowly. "But if you really think it's worth spending a week's salary on a jumper she'll probably dirty with paint during the first half hour of school..."

"Eh?" He followed Takano-san's gaze to the small placard displaying the price and blanched, taking two steps back as if wary he might be charged just for gawking. "I didn't mean... It was just a comment." He started walking again; window shopping was depressing.

Takano-san's long legs quickly brought him into step again, and he snorted softly from beside Ritsu. "...You know, you're amazing."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His tone suggested it was far from a compliment.

Takano-san shrugged next to him. "Your first night out alone in who knows how long, and you're _still_ thinking about that kid."

Ritsu flushed, ire spiking. "Well--she's my daughter! I can't help it!"

"I know," he allowed easily. "That's why I said you're amazing." And this time, he _did_ sound like he meant it was a compliment. "But sweet as it is that you're turning into one of those _baka_ -parents who are always cooing over their kids and being obnoxious about it, you're supposed to be focusing on _yourself_ tonight. Not your wife, not your kid--"

"Not you?"

"...Well, maybe a little bit on me." Ritsu snorted, rolling his eyes. "...Seriously, though. Don't you ever want to just forget everything, all your responsibilities, all the consequences--and just _do_ something?"

"I..." Ritsu started, then licked his lips. "...I can't do that anymore. I've got--" _responsibilities_ , he stopped himself from reminding. He couldn't act like he had no responsibilities strictly because he _did_ have those. But Takano-san had a point, even if it was falling on deaf ears. He swallowed and ducked his head in apology. "...I'm just not used to it. I've been a-- _father_ for years now, it's just a part of who I am." And for the best, too; he'd rather smother Haru-chan and leave her feeling more loved than she could comprehend than neglect her in any way and fill her with doubt.

Beside him, Takano-san leaned hard to the left and bumped his shoulder, a gentle brush that sent a shiver of unexpected warmth through Ritsu as he jerked his head around to glance up. "Well--I have to admit, I like her. And the influence she has on you. So I don't suppose it's that bad."

And somehow, knowing that Takano-san genuinely felt that way, made Ritsu feel all the better for it.

* * *

After another half hour of wandering and gawking at all the fine things they couldn't afford even pooling their salaries together, Takano-san suggested, noting the chill in the air as the evening drew on into _night_ proper, that they head back. For a moment, Ritsu forgot himself, and let out a soft _Eh?_ of disappointment--they'd been having if not a _good_ time, then a decent one. The nerves from before had been quelled somewhat by a full belly and the distraction of the Ginza shopping district (and of course Takano-san's preemptive strike from before), to the point that he'd actually been starting to relax, to enjoy the quiet moments he had to himself where he wasn't worrying about what to make Haru-chan for dinner or whether or not Mutou-sensei was going to get the storyboard faxed to him on time to check it for Monday's meeting, or any one of a dozen other thoughts that ran wild through his head at any given moment.

He quickly collected himself, though, and nodded shortly a few times in succession. "Ah--yes, it's getting a little late I suppose."

"…If you had some place else you wanted to--?" Takano-san started, not being one to miss a moment of weakness, but Ritsu wasn't letting himself be won over so easily.

"No--no, it's fine. It's chilly, and we should…" Another nod. "Yes, go." To his great relief, Takano-san didn't press the issue anymore, only pausing at the next crosswalk to take them back in the direction of the garage they'd parked in.

While certainly less thick with nervous tension than on the way _to_ dinner, the atmosphere in the car on the way back was…not comfortable, at least. Disappointing almost, even. Ritsu wasn't sure who the disappointment was directed towards--Takano-san for giving in so easily, himself for giving up so easily, the both of them for giving Ritsu another headache--only that he felt a bit dejected when the car drew to a slow halt and Takano-san threw the emergency break in the dim garage underneath their apartment complex.

Desperate to free himself from the cramped confines of the car with its stifling atmosphere, Ritsu hastily unbuckled his belt and stepped out into the garage, taking in a few calming breaths before following Takano-san to the elevator.

It was only as he was crossing into the car and watching Takano-san press _12_ for their floor that he entertained the thought that _the date was almost over_. And--he hadn't a clue what to do now. Thanking Takano-san for a pleasant evening was politic, right? Some carefully worded diplomatic show of gratitude that would neither give him too much hope nor too little, something meant to satisfy but not lead on.

But…wouldn't that just leave them right where they'd been before going through this whole evening? Some uncomfortable limbo where neither knew what he wanted or could give the other? Did Ritsu _really_ want to go back to that? Of course not--but that hardly meant he wanted to just shuck propriety altogether and do something _spontaneous_ like Takano-san seemed to have been urging him to try earlier. He wasn't that type of person; the most off-the-cuff thing he'd ever done in his life was confessing to Saga-sempai, and look where _that_ had gotten him.

He swallowed thickly, watching the little numbers light up in sequential fashion as the car rose higher and higher, slowing to a crawl at 11 before stopping with a shudder on 12, doors gently pulling open to spill the car's contents out into the hall.

Takano-san brushed a hand at his lower back to nudge him forward, and with a suppressed jolt, he stepped past the man, nervously fishing around in his pocket for his keys. His breathing had picked up again, and he could feel Takano-san watching him, could hear him asking already _so that's it?_ and _dammit_ he didn't need this right now, had a hard enough time dealing with what he had on a regular basis. He didn't need to be tense and alert around Takano-san for reasons entirely unrelated to manga or editing--and he certainly didn't need to be preemptively kissed in darkened garages because that was the only way he was going to be able to get through an evening that was supposed to be _relaxing_ without embarrassing himself.

He slid the key home and closed his eyes, leaning forward and resting his head against the cool metal of his door. Beside him, he could hear the soft, muffled jingle as Takano-san silently fished out his own keys, wordless and without judgment.

Ritsu swallowed. "…A drink."

"Hm?"

He opened his mouth wider, enunciating more clearly, because he was damned if he was going to say this more than once--mostly because he didn't think he _could_. "You can come inside for a drink if you want."

He didn't know what he was doing--only that he didn't _want_ to be suggesting this but at the same time that he _needed_ to. He needed Takano-san to know that it hadn't been unappreciated, this evening, but just…he also needed the guy to understand that he wasn't _Ritsu_ , not the one he remembered. He was a single father with one failed relationship behind him who was in no mood to start another mostly because that's _exactly_ what it would wind up being: a failure, as how was he supposed to be anything like what he was ten years ago?

How was he supposed to make Takano-san see he was just chasing after shadows, and that whatever he might have loved before was long gone now?

His apartment was dark but not so chilly given the nearness of Spring and the fact that they'd only left a few hours before. Ritsu advised his guest to watch his step, frowning at the state of cleanliness (or lack thereof) but comforted at least in the knowledge that Takano-san would understand.

He waved a hand towards the living room, directing Takano-san to make himself comfortable, and busied himself in the kitchen, pulling down two wine glasses and the bottle he'd held off on the weekend before. It wasn't anything terribly fancy--a red his mother had sent him and An-chan for the new year before everything had gone to hell. Takano-san probably wouldn't like to know he was about to drink something that had been intended for Ritsu to share with An-chan…but then again, maybe that fact would make him enjoy it all the more. He was weird that way.

Nevertheless, he decided to keep mum on the whole situation and grabbed the two glasses by their stems in one hand whole holding the bottle in the other as he made his way into the living room, carefully setting up everything on the low table in front of the couch. Takano-san grabbed the corkscrew Ritsu had set inside one of the glasses and set to work on the bottle, releasing a loud _pop_ when he managed to pull the cork free.

Once his glass had been filled, though, Ritsu didn't wait for Takano-san to offer any customary cheers of any sort, instead downing half the contents in a single gulp and keeping his lips on the edge of the glass as he ordered himself to take it slow. He desperately wanted that dulling of the senses to hit him so that he could stop being so _aware_ of everything around him--Takano-san, the space of only a few centimeters separating them on this couch, Haru-chan far away, An-chan even farther.

But Takano-san spoke up before the alcohol could kick in and make this all bearable. "…You were nervous tonight."

"Eh?"

"You were scared. The whole time--in the garage, in the car, at dinner, walking around. Now. Why?" He hadn't touched his drink, just slowly working the glass in his hands and swirling the contents as he stared down at the burgundy whirlpool. "I honestly thought I'd broken the tension in the garage, but--" He swallowed and seemed to reflect on his actions, regretting them, and glanced at Ritsu out of the corner of his eye. "…I told you all you had to do was give me one good reason not to--"

"That's not it," Ritsu snapped, voice rough and harsher than he'd meant it to be, and he cursed himself and took another sip of his wine. "I didn't…if I hadn't wanted to go, I wouldn't have said yes. So…" His voice grew small. "So just know that that's not it."

Ritsu's shoulders hunched together, and he wished he could just sink into the couch and _not_ have this conversation right now. There were so many things he wanted to tell Takano-san that he _couldn't_ , not even with him sitting right here, open and waiting and deserving an explanation for why Ritsu was the way he was, why this couldn't happen, why it hurt Ritsu to say so.

"…Then _what_?" Takano-san, of course, oblivious to Ritsu's unspoken wishes. He felt the cushions shift as Takano-san turned to face him, staring him down and knowing that would prise from Ritsu all the answers he didn't want to give. "What do I have to do? Or--not do? Because playing hard to get is cute for a while but then it starts to make me wonder what the hell your intentions are. You push me away one day and then you cling to me the next; how am I supposed to know what to do, Onodera?" He hung his head. "…I just wish I knew what you wanted from me. I'd give it if I could--you know?"

 _I want you to leave me alone. I want you to give up on me. I want you to--_ "I was scared because…" He swallowed. "Because you don't know me. You think you do, but you don't. You know who I was, not who I am. And doing all of this…maybe you'd start to figure out who I am now. And…maybe you wouldn't like that person, not like before." He knocked the rest of the glass back and reached for the bottle to fill it again, muttering, "I'm not the person I was before, I'm not the person you loved before..."

"Oi." Takano-san reached forward and grabbed the bottle from his hands, setting it out of his reach, and Ritsu flushed angrily, opening his mouth to demand it back. "Where the hell do you get off deciding how I feel about you?"

"…Eh?"

He raked an irritated gaze over Ritsu. "Who I fall in love with is my business; it's not for you to decide."

"I--never said that I--"

"It's not for you to decide, so that means you don't have any power over it." He slumped back against the couch. "So it's pointless to worry about it."

Ritsu's heart sank at his attempt at logic. "…Even things we don't have power over still make us worry." Hell, those tended to be the things people worried about _most of all_.

Takano-san smiled to himself. "…The fact that you're worried about it means you care, then. About whether or not I'm in love with you." Ritsu released a soft _ah_ of realization, face a bright cherry red, and he froze--maybe if he didn't move, Takano-san wouldn't notice. "…You're so easy to read."

"Th--that's _not_ \--"

"Except it is. You pretty much just confessed as much."

"I _didn't_ \--!" But any further protests were cut off as Takano-san slipped forward and pressed their lips together, bringing a hand up quickly to the back of Ritsu's head to steady their joining. He slid a tongue along the seam between their lips, as if reminding Ritsu silently _I thought I said keep your mouth open when we kiss_ , and Ritsu whimpered softly at the memory, obediently doing as instructed all those years ago.

He hadn't meant it as any sort of confession, and he maintained that it _wasn't_ , it wasn't any more of an admission than anything he'd said so far had been…but Takano-san had a point. Ritsu _cared_ how Takano-san felt about him--wanted him to keep feeling that passionate, lasting emotion that he remembered seeing in Saga-sempai's eyes now and then that made him flush with excitement and anticipation and something else.

Ritsu _craved_ stability--he wanted to be _sure_ of things in life. He wanted to _know_ that the burnable garbage went out on Tuesdays and Fridays every week, wanted to _know_ that Haru-chan hated carrots and always would…wanted to _know_ that Takano Masamune, no matter his name, loved Ritsu just as much as Ritsu loved him. Loving Takano-san didn't have to mean that his world would be turned upside down; it could just as easily mean that he was ensuring that this constant remained as unwavering now as it had been for the past ten years.

He brought his hands up to fist in the thick material of Takano-san's shirt as he felt the man shift on the couch, trying to bring his weight forward to encourage Ritsu to fall backwards, and he broke their heady kiss with great effort, complaining against his lips in a wet whisper, "I didn’t …invite you in for this…"

Takano-san dropped a hand between them, brushing two fingers insistently over the crotch of Ritsu's pants and smiling at the way Ritsu grunted softly and squeezed his arms tighter around Takano-san's neck where they'd found purchase. "But this is where it's going--so either kick me out or shut up."

This wasn't what he'd meant to happen, not now, and in the back of his mind, the last of his logic centers were _screaming_ at him to stop this, to think clearly about how this would affect their relationship, how it would affect their _work_ , what An-chan would think ( _it's none of her business but she'd understand surely_ ), what Haru-chan would think.

Those voices of logic were drowned out, though, by the thrumming of blood pumping in his ears, and heated gasps and strained groans as he and Takano-san attended to each other's fastenings, zips coming down and buttons flying off to be discovered later. Takano-san was faster, long, slender fingers slipping easily into Ritsu's pants to cup him through his boxers and swallow the cry he released through their joined lips, gently nipping as his tongue and stroking with his own. Shifting his hips for a better angle, Takano-san breathed against him, "Touch me--hurry, touch me." And for once it wasn't his boss, the editor-in-chief of _Emerald_ , but the long-lost, long- _missed_ passion-roughened voice of Saga-sempai who just wanted to feel Ritsu's fingers on him, who wanted them to bring each other off while stroking tongues and panting each other's names like they were the only two people in the world that mattered.

He couldn't look up--even though he wanted; he'd never been able to bring himself to look Saga-sempai square on, but _god_ he wondered what it looked like now, what it looked like when Saga-sempai, when Takano-san was desperate for Ritsu to touch him, was flushed and panting and already had Ritsu hard and heavy in his own hand and just wanted the same for himself, wanted them to touch each other and wrap slick fingers around thick shafts to squeeze and pull and wring out everything they possibly could from each other, organic or effable or _anything_.

His fingers trembled, and he flinched, eyes squinting shut, as he forced his way into the narrow opening of Takano-san's drawn zipper, pressing the breadth of his palm against the hard cock straining against the man's briefs. He breathed slowly in and out, licking his lips--and formed a tiny u with his thumb and forefinger to stroke up the outline of the shaft and back down again, setting Takano-san to shuddering against him with a broken hiss. " _Fuck--_ Ritsu…"

Where Takano-san couldn't see, he allowed himself a tiny, self-satisfied smile, and opened his mouth to say something incredibly witty--

 _BEEEE-DE-DE-DE-DE-BEEEEP!_

"…What the _hell--_ "

 _BEEEE-DE-DE-DE-DE-BEEEEP!_

Ritsu's jerked his hand out of Takano-san's pants and twisted around, shaking off Takano-san's own grip around his cock. He leaned forward, and the insistent _BEEEE-DE-DE-DE-DE-BEEEEP!_ -ing grew louder, sharper, until Ritsu realized it was coming from his _pants_ \--or rather, his back pocket.

"It's--my cellphone." He scrambled to free it from underneath where Takano-san had practically pressed him down on his back. "It's my work ringtone…" he apologized, but Takano-san had already pulled back, brows furrowed in irritation as he massaged his temple. "Should I…?"

"Just-- _answer it_ , fuck." Ritsu winced at the tone, but did as instructed. It wasn't as if he didn't understand the guy's feelings--his own heart was still racing, and his cock was twitching in his boxers, itching for him to put fingers to it again--but work came first, especially for Ritsu right now, and he found himself impressed at Takano-san's own dedication in the face of, well, what they'd just been doing. Whatever the hell _that_ had been.

He whipped open the phone without checking the ID and spoke, "Hello?"

 _"Ah--this is Mutou. Is this…Onodera-san?"_

Mutou-sensei. Of course. She was supposed to be in the middle of her storyboard, and Ritsu winced at this, praying she wasn't calling to let him know she wasn't going to make it by Monday. "Yes, I apologize for taking so long to answer. Is there something I can do for you?" He twisted around on the couch, leaning back to try and get comfortable, not minding how it looked that he had to keep his legs propped open at an indecent angle just because it was too much to have even the fabric brushing at him right now. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Takano-san stand and wander over to his fax machine, fingers running over a stack of paper in the receiving tray. Ritsu frowned--that had been empty when he'd left.

 _"I just wanted to let you know I faxed you the storyboards. They're a bit rough this time, and I do apologize--but I could really use some help on a few pages… I can let you know the numbers now if you have something to write with?"_

Ritsu scrambled into a standing position, casting about for his bag, in which he kept a pen and pad of paper. "Y--yes, just a moment, let me find something…" He rustled around for a moment, frowning when the necessary utensils didn't immediately leap into his fingers, but quickly managed to find a piece of scratch paper and a pencil. He settled back down on the couch, leaning forward with pencil at the ready. "All right, please tell me the page numbers."

Mutou-sensei began to rattle off a series of numbers in his ear, and he listened with half his attention, blindly taking down the values, with part of his focus still trained on Takano-san, who now strode back across the room from inspecting his fax machine and stood watching Ritsu scribble down notes from Mutou-sensei. Was he waiting until the call was finished? Did he expect them to just continue as before, now that Ritsu's mind was clearer and less clouded with passion and confusion? Did he intend to press Ritsu for more than he honestly felt prepared to give right now, even though his body was very much on board with the idea of getting off in new and imaginative ways?

He closed his eyes, ordering his breath to stop coming so fast and his heart to stop its frantic racing. In his ear, Mutou-sensei's melodic voice continued to prattle on, this time off on a tangent about how she really wasn't sure about the pacing between pages 15 and 16 and perhaps there ought to be a few more panels between--

Ritsu jerked upright with a start, twisting to the side and letting the brush of dry lips against his cheek fade away, leaving behind a warm brand across his skin that he would later swear must have burned bright for any to see. He brought his free hand up to his cheek and stared up, accusing and confused at Takano-san, who only brought a finger to his lips begging silence on the matter before slipping back around the low table and heading out the door.

 _"Onodera-san? Can you hear me? Are you all right?"_

Staring at Takano-san's retreating figure, a backwards-thrown wave his only farewell, Ritsu shuddered inside and kept his hand cupped over his cheek, letting his head sink between his shoulders.

No…no, he wasn't all right at all.


	9. Chapter 9

Ritsu hadn't bothered to set his alarm for the next morning, but regardless, his internal clock had him up far earlier than he'd wanted to be.

He'd been on the phone with Mutou-sensei the previous evening for a good hour after Takano-san had left him--which was fortunate, in a way, as it provided plenty of time for the swelling in Ritsu's pants to thoroughly deflate, leaving behind only a wash of irritation and unfulfillment that was not pleasant but also not unignorable (and so, Ritsu promptly _had_ ignored it).

Here under the harsh light of _morning_ now, though, the night before seemed…altogether surreal. How had things escalated so quickly? Why had he let them? When had he stopped scoffing at Takano-san's advances and instead given in to his desperate, panting pleas to _touch me, hurry_? His face burned with shame at the remembrance, and his hands shook as he scraped a dirty plate into the trash.

The evening had been going fine up until that point; the date…well, he hadn't wanted to go on it in the first place, but when he stopped thinking of Takano-san as _Takano-san_ and instead started remembering that this was just _Saga-sempai ten years later_ , it was still nerve-wracking but for reasons Ritsu could _deal_ with. He could go on dates with an old flame; he couldn't with his boss.

And in that sense…it hadn't been the worst experience in the world. When Ritsu had let himself calm down and take in the atmosphere, it had been actually almost enjoyable; Takano-san made…decent company, his conversation prodding but not probing and his personality actually tolerable outside the office. And though he hadn't wanted to show it, Ritsu had honestly been a bit disappointed to break off and return home after wandering the streets in comfortable silence as they had--the first time that evening that Ritsu hadn't felt pressure to impress or meet some criteria he didn't even know existed. But then they'd gone back to Ritsu's apartment--and it _figured_ the wine had been his undoing, albeit indirectly.

Ritsu reached into the garbage pail and tied off the bag, frowning.

…He would've done it.

He hadn't been nearly far enough gone that he'd had no control over his actions anymore--and that knowledge made the realization send a shudder through him. He would've gone through with it, would've let Takano-san press him down, would've jerked and tugged at his cock to completion or until Takano-san had whispered into his ear that he hoped Ritsu had some condoms handy because he really didn't want to go all the way back to his own place.

…And maybe if he'd let that happen, he wouldn't be this swirling cauldron of confused feelings right now. Maybe he wouldn't be second-guessing himself and thinking he was just caught up in the moment, that it had been a mistake to invite Takano-san inside and an even bigger one to give him even more reason to hope that Ritsu might be able to eventually return his feelings, that he even _wanted_ to.

Except, mistake or not, he _did_ feel that way. Some little pit sitting at the base of his throat, nestled snug and tight and not about to be moved, felt _good_ , felt _satisfied_ with what he'd done, felt that while it had been harrowing saying it at the time, at least he'd _gotten it over with_ and now Takano-san knew, or had a good idea, how Ritsu felt.

Because try as he might to deny it left and right and up and down, morning to evening, there was only so long he could go with trying to convince himself that he didn't get some sick thrill out of being chased, out of being desired like this. The way it tore him up inside and threw his world into disarray because this man had been pining after him for ten years and _couldn't stand it_ anymore being apart from Ritsu--it was a _rush_.

Ritsu swallowed thickly and heaved the bag of plastics out of the bin--he needed to take it downstairs for pick-up on Monday. Slowly and unsteadily, he waddled to the front door with the bag held in both hands.

In some corner of his mind, he wished they hadn't been interrupted. Maybe if he'd gone through with it, come what may, he wouldn't be feeling as torn and confused right now. He'd have a better grasp on his own feelings, have some idea ( _some_ idea) of how to approach Takano-san now--instead of standing here as he was wondering how they were supposed to look each other in the eye on Monday when all he could think about was how hot and heavy Takano-san's cock had been in his palm and how strained and desperate his breath had been in his ear.

He leaned against the wall in the genkan, closing his eyes and taking a moment to collect himself before stepping out into the hall. The last thing he needed was for the old lady in 1205 to catch him with a hard-on in the elevator.

Taking a few deep breaths in and out, he reminded himself that what was done was done, and regardless of his feelings on the matter--he needed to speak with Takano-san again before Monday. If for no other reason than to let him know how the conversation with Mutou-sensei had gone--and possibly…to apologize. He'd let things get out of hand, and regardless of how _smart_ that decision had been, he'd given Takano-san the idea that something was going to happen between them; something that ultimately _hadn't_ happened. It wasn't his fault, but…he still felt like he should at least apologize for getting him 'worked up' (and possibly work up some explanation as to why they shouldn't be doing that sort of thing in the first place to head off any suggestions of, "I didn't mind; we can just pick up where we left off now" sure to follow).

Shaking his head, he pressed out into the hall, heaving the plastic trash bag along in both hands as he waddled out. He set the bag down for a moment, taking a breath, and pressed the doorbell for 1201--best to get this over with.

But after a few moments and another press of the doorbell, no response came, and Ritsu frowned. The guy wasn't home. Of course, it was hardly strange--people had their own schedules, and it wasn't like Takano-san was supposed to check with Ritsu when he went out to run errands or stop by the grocery store or, who knew, to drop off the garbage like Ritsu. Still, he'd worked himself up for this and now had all this steeled resolution and nothing to use it on. This sucked.

He huffed his irritation and picked up the bag again, slinging it over his shoulder with a frown, and stomped to the elevator. Great, now he was in a mood--and it was all Takano-san's fault. He supposed he'd just have to worry about the guy later; this way at least he could spend the rest of the morning and afternoon by himself going over Mutou-sensei's many changes before An-chan's mother showed up to drop off Haru-chan later that evening.

After going down to the basement and depositing the trash in the large bin shared by the whole complex, he stopped in the lobby to check his mail--they were lucky to be safe behind a passcode-locked entrance, which did wonders for keeping the local restaurateurs from passing out flyers for daily specials that only wound up littering the waste bin. He sighed to himself when he noticed mostly bills in his inbox, with one newsletter from an online shopping service he'd used to help fill out the apartment when they'd first moved in.

He leafed through the notices of upcoming account withdrawals, calculating in his head how much he needed to set aside until payday--and how much An-chan would demand she be allowed to pay to help support Haru-chan. It was ridiculous, as she didn't live there anymore, and they'd never drawn up any paperwork along the lines of _child support_ or anything, but still she prodded Ritsu to let her help whenever the issue came up, and it was easier to give in than to hurt her feelings and leave her feeling left out.

He sighed and shook his head, running a hand through his hair; was this what being an adult was all about?

"Ah." Ritsu glanced up at the soft noise of surprise--and found himself locking eyes with Takano-san, who'd just stepped in through the automatic doors with one hand laden with a plastic conbini bag--the items visible even from where Ritsu was standing ten paces away: a can of coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Obviously the contents of Takano-san's kitchen hadn't improved much in the past few weeks. Did the guy never take time to go to the grocery store?

Takano-san said nothing, though, simply offered him a short nod, no more or less than might be expected of a superior to his subordinate outside of the office, and breezed past. At the trailing, faint scent of cologne, though, Ritsu's senses snapped to attention, and his feet moved forward of their own accord, dragging the rest of his body with it in Takano-san's wake.

They both drew up short at the elevator, and Ritsu's stomach churned at the awkward silence. They weren't supposed to meet _now_ ; Ritsu'd been ready five minutes before, but now he was…patently _not_ , which meant he ran the risk of embarrassing himself or saying something he didn't mean (or worse, saying something he _did_ mean).

He flinched at the gentle _ding_ of the elevator as it arrived, and watched helplessly as Takano-san stepped on, shifted in place, and raised one brow at Ritsu as if to say _Going to just stand there and gawk at me all day, or are we doing this?_

Apparently they were _doing this_.

Ritsu swallowed and pocketed himself in a corner of the elevator away from Takano-san, trying to make himself seem as small as possible as he worked through the plan he'd drafted in his head. Sure, he was playing defense now rather than running the show as he'd intended, but all was not lost just yet. He coughed softly and started, cursing the way his voice quavered and threatened to crack under the stress, "Umm…just, about Mutou-sensei…"

"Huh?"

Takano-san was staring at him in abject confusion, as if he'd just started babbling in a foreign language, and Ritsu felt some of the tension ease in his shoulders--it was nice, now and then, to be able to throw him off balance given how often the tables were turned. He took a breath and started again. "Mutou-sensei. When she called last night…"

"…Ah." _Ah_. Like he'd only just placed the incident; like it had slipped his mind until Ritsu called it back to the forefront.

Swallowing his offense, Ritsu made every effort to slip into work mode, picturing himself standing beside Takano-san's desk giving him a run-down of where he was at the moment in his workflow. "She only had some issues with her storyboard, some last-minute changes before she turned it in. I agreed with most of what she said and gave some critique of my own, but--perhaps we should look it over…?"

"Sure," he agreed easily, shifting the bag from one arm to the other and keeping his gaze focused ahead. "Bring it over after lunch Monday."

Ritsu felt his stomach give another sickening churn. He hadn't _meant_ the suggestion to sound like an invitation, or like he was implying they should take care of it _right then_ , but well…he'd been mentally prepared (if not physically) for Takano-san…to jump on the offer and use it to bully Ritsu into being alone with him again. This whole courteous bit with putting off doing _work_ until a weekday was not part of the plan.

But Ritsu could hardly put these thoughts into words, and so he simply nodded meekly and mouthed another apology, "Sorry…it was late when I finished with her last night, so I thought you'd already gone to bed…" Let him take that how he meant it; an apology from an employee to his boss for not consulting him about an issue with a client…or an apology from _Ritsu_ for not putting some sort of period on the sentence they'd been writing with their mouths and hands and fingers twelve hours ago.

Takano-san just shrugged, disaffected. "You seemed like you were handling it. We can look it over on Monday if you still want to." Another half-assed reply that was far too professional for Ritsu who'd resigned himself to never being able to have that sort of relationship with Takano-san ever again.

The elevator slowed to a halt at 12, and Takano-san stepped out onto the landing, free hand already fishing around in his pocket for his key. Ritsu stood, mutely watching him retreat into his apartment without another word. Just as he reached out to to pull the door shut behind him, though, Takano-san met Ritsu's eye, face masking any emotions he might be dealing with.

"…Did you need anything else?"

And was it Ritsu's imagination, or did he sound almost hopeful, a tentative, grasping note to the question? Like he was holding out a rope line and waiting for Ritsu to grab on, to haul himself up and on to dry land? But--Ritsu just swallowed and shook his head. "I'll prepare the edits for Monday," he managed, and after a pause, Takano-san nodded and pulled the door shut behind him.

He'd just had a normal, civil, professional conversation with his boss--wasn't that what he'd always wanted?

…Or had he maybe never really _wanted_ that at all?

* * *

Ritsu threw himself into reviewing Mutou-sensei's edits from the previous evening for the rest of the afternoon, breaking the stupor of panels and red marks only to sate his growling stomach with a lunch of cup noodle before diving back into the fray. Focusing on his work was a welcome respite from fretting over what to do about Takano-san's strange behavior--it had hardly been _his_ fault that Mutou-sensei had called, and even though Ritsu wasn't entirely thrilled with the way things had been going the previous evening, he knew he'd been into it enough at the time and so Takano-san could hardly complain about _that_. Ritsu'd been all prepared to have to gentle the guy again, let him know that looking back, the previous night had gone too fast, and they needed to take things at a more leisurely pace-- _he_ should've been the one pulling on the reins, not Takano-san. The way things hung right now…was confusing, and troubling, and all manner of emotions Ritsu _hated_ being saddled with.

Just as he was debating the merits of taking a nap for the hour or so he had left before An-chan's mother arrived with Haru-chan--his early evening musings were interrupted by the doorbell, and a moment's shuffling and scrambling to the door later, Ritsu pressed the door outwards to see--"An-chan?" Not waiting to be invited in, An-chan lugged the door open fully, lifting her skirt to bend down and step out of her tall boots as she made herself comfortable. Ritsu stared at her, confused by her arrival, and reminded her, "I told you you didn't need to make us dinner this weekend…"

She drew herself up, a head shorter than Ritsu now that her heeled boots were lying in the genkan, and crossed her arms as she padded into the living room like she still lived there. "I know. I was impressed that you were going to handle all the cooking yourself; I half-expected to come back and find Haru-chan gnawing on her own leg for sustenance." Ritsu blanched, and she laughed lightly, a genuine chuckle that put Ritsu somewhat at ease despite her sudden appearance. "You really need to learn to make more than instant curry, Ricchan."

"I--know that," he grumbled, not appreciating the jab at his culinary skills (or lack thereof) on top of An-chan's unannounced presence. He followed her into the living room, balking at the threshold while she made herself comfortable on the couch. "…Did you…need something, then?"

She smiled sweetly. "Ricchan. Where's Haru-chan?"

"Eh?" His voice quavered a bit--though he didn't know why. It wasn't as if he'd done anything wrong. "I--your parents' place, why?"

"Why?"

"I just asked--" He cut himself off, frowning. "Because…they haven't gotten to see her in a while. I thought they might like to…" He trailed off when he realized she wasn't paying attention to him, instead inspecting her nails. "…An-chan, what's the matter--"

"You usually let me have her on the weekends, but on one of the rare opportunities that you _do_ get her…you send her to my parents?" She leaned back against the cushions, settling in, and crossed one leg over the other, and Ritsu's heart did a little double beat at the way she was looking at him. She wasn't _angry_ , as he'd assumed--she was… _knowing_. He could practically see the gleam in her eye, though it was dulled by the firm set of her jaw. This was knowing--and not being entirely happy about it.

He groped for an excuse. "I just--had a lot of work to get caught up on this weekend; I wouldn't have had time to play with her hardly any, so I just thought she'd have a better time at your parents' place was all." An-chan just _hmm_ ed softly and nodded, and this patronizing response sparked Ritsu's irritation. " _What_?"

"You're telling me you _didn't_ pawn your daughter off on her grandparents to spend time with--Takano-san, was it?"

Ritsu felt the room sway and grabbed on to the doorjamb for support. "Wha-- _what_? Why would I…?" But of course that response wasn't going to fly, so he played dumb. "I said _work_ but--it's mostly just reviewing storyboards for an author. It's nothing to go to Takano-san about just because--"

"Oh _stop it_ , Ricchan," and she didn't sound very amused this time--more annoyed, irritated. Ritsu could sympathize. "…You never talk to me anymore, you know."

The room had stopped spinning by now, and Ritsu's focused narrowed down to An-chan, sitting brave and alone in the living room of the apartment she'd called home not so very long ago; Ritsu didn't know if he could ever have walked with head held high into Saga-sempai's home after being rejected as he'd been sure he had--and for that, An-chan had all his respect. "…It's because I don't know what to talk about."

She laughed softly, more at herself. "Ricchan was never good at talking to women."

"You know I never saw you like that." He bit his tongue and shook his head, cursing to himself. "I didn't mean--just, I always thought of you as--" But she waved him off.

"I know what you meant." She leaned forward and rested her chin in one hand, staring over at him with soft memory in her eye. "…I was always good at figuring out what you really meant to say beneath it all. Even if I didn't really like what it was."

Ritsu ducked his head and shuffled further in, settling down on the sofa as far from her as he could. "…You know I always cared about you, right? If I didn't, I never would have tried to make you happy or--" _Fuck_ how did he manage to always stick his foot in his mouth like that? "Just--I'm sorry. For…not talking to you more."

She nodded silently, leaning back again, and stared down at her fingers to distract herself again. "…So are you going to talk to me now?"

"What-- _right_ now?" A nod. "…About what?"

" _Ricchan_ ," she huffed again, jerking her head towards the wall--beyond which lay 1201 and Takano-san. "Did you really think I was going to just let that conversation at dinner the other day go without needling you about it?"

Ritsu flushed, remembering the dinner in question, and he pulled in on himself. "That's not--there's nothing to _talk about_."

"Well I'm not leaving until you say _something_." When Ritsu turned an offended expression her way, she just let her brows dance up into her bangs and proceeded to get comfortable, reaching into her bag to pull out an emory board. "Are you dating?"

"Of _course_ not--" he started, but she didn't react as if she'd heard this at all, and he paused to regroup, continuing in a calmer register, "…We're _not_. Really, we just work together and Haru-chan _really_ is with your parents because I thought she'd be bored here this weekend and--" He ground out the last bit, "--this really isn't the kind of conversation I think is appropriate for us to be having."

"Why not?"

"Because! You're--" _My ex-wife. My daughter's mother. The only person who's probably been hurt more by this whole fiasco than me._ He waved a hand in her general direction, hoping these thoughts were related by the gesture. "Anyways, there's nothing to discuss about Takano-san. Really."

She nodded her acceptance, still filing away at her pinky. "You may want to let Takano-san know that, then."

He felt his face go white. "Eh?" Swallowing, he tried to wet his lips. "You--spoke to Takano-san?"

Another nod. "After dinner. He had lovely stories to tell about all the activities you got up to in high school." She placed the emory board back in her bag and crossed her arms primly in her lap. "Are you _sure_ you're not dating? Because from the way he spoke…"

"We're _not_ ," Ritsu ground out with conviction--but his protest was undermined by the way his voice cracked on the end, and he buried his face in his hands, breathing deep. "…I don't think so, at least."

After a pause, An-chan spoke up remarkably evenly, "…As I understand it, dating is a binary state; you either are, or you aren't." Ritsu just let her words wash over him, and flinched when he felt a hand on his back; she still knew how to calm him down, just like his mother. "…Ricchan. Stop doing this to yourself. I'm not here to judge you." And she had no idea that, to Ritsu's shame, her _judging_ him was the least of Ritsu's worries right now. "Ricchan, why did you send Haru-chan to stay with my parents this weekend?"

Ritsu froze, despite the fact that he could easily remind her again--lie to her again--that it had only been out of worry that Haru-chan would be bored with nothing to do that weekend. He swallowed thickly and prayed his voice held, staring down at the floor and focusing on a knot in the faux wood paneling. "…He invited me out. For dinner."

A pause. "…So, a date."

"I…suppose so."

"Ricchan, I hate to break this to you, but that's _dating_ \--"

"It's _not_ ," he reminded her, lifting his head up. "It's--we're not in a _relationship_. I don't know _what_ we're doing--but it's not whatever you're thinking." And at the way her expression grew cool, betraying the unseemly thoughts running through her mind, Ritsu groaned again. "I don't want to have this conversation with you, An-chan; and please don't ask me 'why not' again."

An-chan just rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ricchan. I'm not a child, you know. I'm not going to--burst into tears just because you're seeing someone new." And at this, Ritsu scoffed and looked away, convinced he was never going to be able to have a normal conversation with her after this. "Besides--" She grew quiet, her words much less practiced. "--I made my peace long ago with the fact that…there would always be someone more important to you than I was. No matter how much I hated it or tried to take their place." Ritsu thought he heard her voice catch, and wondered if she realized how close she was to not living up to her profession of _I'm not going to burst into tears_. But when she spoke again after a beat of silence, the emotion was gone, and there she was confident again. "I just want you to be happy, you know. That's all anyone ever wants for someone they truly love. And…if it can't be with me, then he's probably the only one I'd ever accept--since I know better than even you maybe how much he's always meant to you."

Ritsu didn't know when they'd started treating Takano-san like this thing with him was _real_ and worth even discussing…but here they were doing it. For now, the polite thing to do would be to at least show his appreciation for An-chan's decorum with this whole situation. "I…do appreciate the thought, An-chan, but…" Ah fuck, what was he doing? He slumped back onto the couch beside her, letting his head loll to the side as he stared up forlornly, looking about as pathetic as he sounded and felt. "…Why do you have to be like that?"

"Like what?"

"So… _nice_. So understanding."

She snorted softly. "Would you rather I rip my hair out in refusal to accept it and give you a good slap across the face?"

Ritsu mirrored her derisive response; sometimes he felt like that himself. "I'd probably feel better that way. I deserve it."

" _Stop it_." And it wasn't a playful response, but an irritated command. Her soft features hardened, and she pasted on a scowl. "You're the one acting like a child now; what's your problem even?"

He blinked a few times in succession, before grudgingly admitting to himself that she was right. He _was_ acting like a child, doing nothing but feeling sorry for himself. "…Just, I don't know what to do. About anything." He glanced down at the space separating them on the couch and regretted it--the space, emotional and physical, he'd placed between himself and An-chan out of feigned concern for her well-being but really out of a desperate need to cut himself off from his old life. "…I really am grateful that you're so…accepting and all. But--it still doesn't help me decide how I feel."

An-chan cocked her head to the side, face a mask of confusion. "What on earth is there to _decide_?" She waved a hand towards the wall, and Takano-san with it. "Unless I've sorely misinterpreted things, it seems to me that the man you've spent the last decade pining after thinking he never loved you very obviously has _some_ feelings for you, so…I'm not quite sure what the issue is here." She paused in thought, adding, "…Is it Haru-chan, then?"

Ritsu furrowed his brows, confused at the suggestion. "Of course not." It was absurd, though not unfounded. Truthfully--and embarrassingly so--he had already reconciled in his head that regardless of his relationship with Takano-san, so long as he didn't royally screw things up, the man would never be anything but cordial to their daughter. He just had that air about him. "Just…I mean, of course I worry about her. But I think even without her here, I'd still be torn."

She sighed, seeming to have grown as tired with this circular conversation as Ritsu had. "Ricchan, you know--"

" _Yes_ , I know I'm not making any sense--can't you see that? Just--I finally thought my life was settling down, that I was starting over and understanding what I _wanted_ in life, and how to achieve it, but then _Takano-san_ had to show up, and seeing him again…" He massaged his temples and closed his eyes. "It makes me realize that maybe I don't have everything I want--so now I have to sit here and be more confused and worried about making another mistake, wondering how much of this is real and how much of it's too good to be true." He snorted derisively at himself. He was _monologuing_. How pathetic. "It's just…it's been _ten years_. People change--maybe I just thought I was in love with this person who's really a colossal jerk, because I was a stupid kid back then and all I saw was--"

" _Onodera Ritsu stop that this instant._ " Her sharp voice cut through his babbling, and Ritsu's eyes snapped open, finding An-chan standing before him with her hands fisted at her sides. "Ricchan is a very important person to me--and I'll always love him. So--I don't want to hear anyone speaking badly of him. Not even himself." Ritsu pursed his lips in annoyance, but wisely kept quiet. "…I'm not you, Ricchan. I can't tell you how to live your life--you probably wouldn't even listen to me if I tried, but…if you'll at least hear the advice of someone who cares about you?" Ritsu said nothing, but didn't turn away, instead trying to sink deeper into the cushions. "…Honestly, you go on about not wanting things to change or be unstable, but it's obvious you're just dragging yourself along right now. I notice it, our parents notice it--even Haru-chan notices it in her own way." She shook her head. "You should know that I think you're the biggest idiot in the world, much as I love you, if you won't let someone who obviously has feelings for you take care of you. Not--" she hastened to amend, "--not me, of course," and Ritsu felt ashamed she seemed to think she needed to clarify this still. "But it's foolish to not open yourself up to someone who has feelings for you when it's pretty obvious you return them in spades."

Ritsu slanted his gaze off to the side, rubbing at his nose. "That's--quite an exaggeration, An-chan. You don't even know what--"

"Oh _honestly_ ," she scoffed, indignant but not angry. "You get this _look_ when you're around him. You got it back in high school…and you have it again now." Some part of Ritsu was dreadfully curious as to what this look was, precisely, but it was overshadowed by another, bigger part that wanted nothing to do with such assertions.

An-chan made a show of straightening her dress, shifting from one foot to the other and glancing down at her watch with a frown. Ritsu shifted his gaze to the clock on the wall and noticed it was getting on towards the later side of evening; Haru-chan would be back soon. "…You have my support, you know. I only want you to be happy; if I wanted to just selfishly keep you to myself, I never would have agreed to the divorce in the first place." She reached down and snatched up her purse from the table beside them. "So…you should do what makes you happy." Ritsu snorted softly; easier said than done. An-chan seemed to take this as a challenge, for she added curtly, "And if you aren't sure what's going to make you happy…let someone else try for you until it works."

She turned on her heel and padded out into the hallway, headed for the door, and Ritsu scrambled to his feet, caught off guard by the abrupt end to the conversation. He caught up with her at the genkan, where she was buttoning her coat and stepping back into her boots. When she noticed him standing, gaping at her and fishing for something to say, she lifted up on her toes and kissed his cheek, patting his shoulder. "Good talk, Ricchan."

"An-chan, I don't--"

"If you have him over, though--" she interrupted, ignoring him in favor of bending down to zip her boots and adjust the little beret she pulled out of her purse, "--try to remember you have a five-year-old who's a light sleeper in the next room, would you?"

" _An-chan_ ," he hissed again in protest, but she was already pressing the door open, her purse slung over one arm, and stepping out into the hall--where she nearly ran head on into: "T-Takano-san…"

"Oh my," An-chan breathed, "I apologize, I didn't see you there." They both raked gazes over the man who seemed like he'd just been parked outside Ritsu's door, waiting to be invited in. He held another plastic bag in his hands--this time laden down with two nondescript bentou boxes from the local conbini. An-chan cast a glance back towards Ritsu, brows raised, and bid her farewells. "Good night, Ricchan. I'll pick up Haru-chan from Mama's and bring her to school in the morning, if it's fine with you." Whether it was fine with him or not, she didn't give him room to object, curtsying shortly in Takano-san's general direction before breezing past the both of them to the elevator and tossing back a final wave before disappearing through the open doors of the car.

There was an uncomfortable beat of silence as the chatter died away, leaving only Takano-san and Ritsu standing in the chilly hallway, each unsure of how to approach the other. Ritsu dragged his gaze from the elevator back to Takano-san, and then to his plastic bag; the guy had horrible nutritional habits, but that was as good a conversation starter as he was going to get right now. He licked his lips and tried to keep his tone casual. "Ah…is that your dinner, then?"

Takano-san followed his gaze before glancing back up, uncharacteristically mute for a moment as he pieced his thoughts together. "…I thought you might be hungry."

"…Oh." He supposed he should have considered that--after all, it was little surprise that anyone, Takano-san included, might be more straightforward about broaching the subject of…whatever was going on between them than Ritsu himself. He panicked for a brief moment, feeling that same sick churning of his stomach as he reminded himself he wasn't ready to have this conversation yet, but luckily enough, his body and mouth no longer required input from his brain, and he found himself pushing the door open further and robotically inviting Takano-san inside.

Relieving Takano-san of his parcel, Ritsu carried the bag of bentous--now obviously reheatable pasta dishes rather than typical Japanese lunches as he'd assumed--into the kitchen to make preparations for their meal. By the time the microwave beeped its completion of one cycle, Takano-san had made his way into the kitchen as well, rifling through Ritsu's cabinets for pasta bowls with the ease of someone who'd purposefully familiarized himself with the layout. Ritsu frowned at the audacity, but said nothing, instead popping the second meal into the microwave and waiting the two minutes it would take to heat up.

Takano-san spooned the pasta into a dish he finally found, taking care not to let the sauce splatter, and casually broke the silence with the rather weighty, "…So your wife was here."

Ritsu jerked in surprise at the harsh beeping of the microwave behind him, glancing back and forth in a panic between his food and Takano-san, before opting to take advantage of he short respite he'd earn from attending to the pasta. Hissing at the hot packaging, he quickly shuttled it over to the counter for Takano-san to take care of, turning now to see to procuring them some drinks. Tea would have to do tonight; he had no intention of letting himself near alcohol around Takano-san again after the previous evening. "Ah…y-yeah. She came by to see Haru-chan--but I'd sent her to stay with her parents for the weakend."

Takano-san raised a brow. "You didn't tell her you were dumping your kid on her folks?"

Ritsu shrugged. "I…sent her a text Friday evening. Maybe she just didn't get it." A half-truth; if there was one thing he didn't want Takano-san knowing, it was that he'd just been having the most embarrassing of discussions with his ex-wife about the person he was currently trying to sort out his feelings for.

Takano-san seemed to think he was as full of shit as Ritsu worried he came off, pressing, "…And she couldn't have called?"

But at this, Ritsu bristled, grateful for the irritation of someone he barely had any contact with reacting as if it were any of his business what Ritsu did with An-chan. "She doesn't have to call to drop by and see her own child--we don't have that sort of--" Takano-san reached around and grabbed the unopened bottle of oolong from Ritsu, making motions to fill their glasses. "She was only here for a few minutes, anyways." Takano-san continued to ignore him, and Ritsu realized this wasn't at all how he wanted this conversation to go, now that he had somewhat settled his stomach and was working up the nerve to _do_ something about the strange tension between them.

…An-chan had been right, he reflected as he twisted his fork around a string of spaghetti, cautiously eyeing Takano-san as they shared their silent meal together. He was behaving like a child, running away and refusing to confront his problems, one-sidedly deciding that _this won't work_ or _this isn't worth it_ when he could at least acknowledge that his feelings weren't the only ones at risk of being hurt by this whole scenario.

So he was supposed to let someone else try to make him happy…when he couldn't figure out how to do it himself? He was supposed to just take everything he had left, all the memories of those few heady weeks in high school, and trust that Takano-san had remained as unwavering in his feelings as Ritsu, as honest and true in the emotions he'd shown Ritsu and no one else, over all these years? That whatever had happened that day, when Ritsu had felt derided and the butt of every pathetic joke, that it had just been a misunderstanding and if he hadn't behaved so rashly, maybe they could be celebrating their tenth anniversary right now instead of sharing dry, reheated conbini pasta in silence over the dining table that had been a wedding gift from his parents?

That thought alone was too depressing to even _consider_ , and Ritsu closed his eyes in frustration.

"…Is it not good?" He snapped back to the present, eyes wide and alert and a blush staining his cheeks; awkward as the silence might have been, it didn't give him license to go about blatantly ignoring Takano-san. Before he could respond, Takano-san had already glanced down at his own half-finished dish, frowning. "…Cause mine tastes like shit, so I assume yours does too."

Ritsu swallowed, making a show of continuing his meal. "Oh--no, I mean, it's not bad…for conbini fare."

Takano-san snorted, shifting to the side and standing to scrape the rest of the meal into the trash. "…I mostly just grabbed the first thing I found." And Ritsu suddenly realized that this whole thing had just been a pretense for Takano-san trying to spark something between them like last night-- _anything_. Once again, he'd been the brave one when Ritsu had balked.

Ritsu stared down at his spaghetti-wrapped fork and half-finished meal, then pushed his chair out and joined Takano-san by the waste bin, scraping the leftovers (which admittedly, had tasted like crap) into the burnable garbage. He could feel Takano-san's eyes on him, wary and worried, but neither said anything, and when Ritsu held out his hand for Takano-san's dish, he was offered it without protest, settling the bowls in the sink to soak after running some water over them.

Reaching for a towel to wipe his hands off, he opened his mouth to say something he knew he'd probably regret--but turning around, he found Takano-san had disappeared. He frowned and huffed a curse under his breath--the guy needed to stay in one spot so Ritsu could gather his thoughts, dammit--and padded into the living room, finding him seated on the couch in exactly the same spot An-chan had been occupying shortly before. How appropriate.

He faltered at the threshold, watching Takano-san recline against the cushions, his eyes closed and expression calm as he digested the meager meal; it wasn't fair that he could be so calm when Ritsu was perpetually wound up around him. Why did he get to be confident in his feelings when Ritsu was all jumbled up inside? Why did he have to be in love with Ritsu when Ritsu wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to return those feelings as clearly as Takano-san deserved?

"Are you just going to stare at me all evening?" Ritsu flinched, and Takano-san let his eyes flutter open, shifting his gaze to focus on him. "Not that I don't like having your undivided attention."

"It's not--" Ritsu started, then bit his tongue. Takano-san was baiting him, and he needed to not rise to the challenge. Not this time, at least; there would be plenty of opportunities in the future to be made fun of or teased by Takano-san, but just this once… He swallowed a lump in his throat and took a step forward. "You're always so jealous of An-chan."

"So?" At least he didn't deny it.

Ritsu narrowed his gaze, pursing his lips. "…She's my ex-wife, you know. She's Haru-chan's mother--and I still value her friendship if nothing else."

"Good for you."

"You're acting like a child." Takano-san would _laugh_ if he knew how hypocritical those words were. "She really did just come by to see Haru-chan; I don't see what reason you have to be jealous of someone I have no relationship with. It's not as if there's anything going on between us." He purposefully left it vague just who _us_ was.

But of course, he knew everything he was saying was just lip service; he understood full well the jealousy Takano-san harbored against An-chan. After all, she'd taken the place that perhaps Takano-san had imagined he would always hold: Ritsu's most precious person--or, well, so he thought. No sense in boring him with little niggling details like _she could never replace you_ or _why do you think I divorced her in the first place?_

Not just yet, anyways.

Takano-san just shook his head, smiling wryly. "…And why are you explaining yourself to me?" He shrugged before Ritsu could reply, explaining, "It's not as if we're dating--so what's it matter what you do with your wife--"

" _Ex-wife_."

"Does it even matter?"

And _fuck_ why did he have to be like this? Comments biting and stinging, like an acid bath tearing away at Ritsu's defenses. "That--of _course_ it matters," he snapped, stalking over until he was standing directly in front of Takano-san, fists at his sides and suddenly understanding the irritation and anger An-chan had felt with him earlier. He'd been stupid before--and Takano-san was being stupid now. "…I told you last night. I'm not the same person I was before--partly because of you, but partly because of her, and Haru-chan too. So if you don't like An-chan, then…" His voice dropped. "…Then you probably won't like who I am now."

A long pause, until Ritsu worried that he'd really stepped where he shouldn't have. "…That won't happen."

Ritsu scoffed softly. "You're confident."

"Because I've already fallen for you."

There was a beat of silence as Ritsu processed the confession--what was he supposed to say? He couldn't in good faith simply return the sentiment, and Takano-san would probably call him on it anyways. Instead, he shuffled on wobbly, weary legs and settled down on the couch next to the guy, staring ahead unblinkingly. "…You've only known me for a few weeks."

"I've known you for ten years; you're not as different as you might think, you know." He sighed deeply, blindly staring ahead with Ritsu. "I don't hate your wife."

"Ex-wife."

"Whatever. I don't hate her. Just…" He never explained himself, but by now, he really didn't need to. How must it feel to be constantly reminded that you weren't the one the person you'd loved chose to spend their life with? How must it feel to know that all the years you'd been sitting there alone, pining away, the one person you wanted to be with was sharing their warmth and happiness with someone else?

Ritsu huffed, trying to rein in his irritation and come off understanding. "…You don't have to feel anything for her--hatred or jealousy or whatever. She's just…An-chan now. I told you before, it was never like…like it was with you whenever I was with her. I loved her and all, but I didn't--" He shook his head and fisted his hands in his pants, letting his gaze drop along with his voice.

“…Why are you explaining yourself to me?”

Ritsu glanced over to the side at being addressed so, and opened and closed his mouth several times in succession. "B-because…" Because? He ducked his head and let it settle in his hands, chest heaving with the deep breaths he was taking. "…I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"And what idea would that be?" _God_ he had no intention of making this easy, did he?

Through grit teeth, he ground out “Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

Even without looking up, he could practically _hear_ the smug shrug in Takano-san's voice, a bit of cockiness seeping back into his tone, long missed. "Because I want to hear you say it, obviously."

"…You're a horrible person, you know." His voice was small, though, and lacked much bite.

“I’m assertive and dogmatic; I’m told they’re excellent qualities in a businessman."

"Maybe--but not in a relationship."

Takano-san snorted, but his voice faltered a bit, betraying the edge of tentative hope. "…I thought you didn't want to be in a relationship."

"I _don't_ \--" Ritsu snapped reflexively, and jerked his head up, staring up at Takano-san, who met his gaze with cool calmness that looked like spring ice, just ready to crack with the slightest pressure--and Ritsu couldn't do that, he couldn't break him any more. It was _cruel_. "I don't…know." And it wasn't entirely a lie; in fact, it was probably the most truthful thing he'd confessed to all evening. "Just…" He licked his lips, suddenly conscious of how dry his mouth was, and prayed his voice held. "Just…I _do_ want…you, though."

The silence seemed interminable--but then in a flash there was a ringing in his ears as he was pressed down with more force than necessary, flat on his back and arms splayed wide, body open and all too quickly covered with Takano-san's legs, torso, arms, _lips_ on his own and trying to suck his soul right from his body, wring his life essence from his tongue as he forced entry and worked his fingers up under Ritsu's shirt, racing hot fingers across any exposed flesh he could find. "Say it again," he begged between breaths, never bothering to give Ritsu pause to even comply. " _Fuck_ say it again, please. Ritsu."

Ritsu's only response was to squirm and try to brace his hands between them, twisting his head to the side to break contact. "Say-- _what_? And geez, don't you know how to be gentle when you're--" But his protests were cut off by another kiss, this one somehow hotter, the points where their skin touched glowing like brands. Takano-san stroked his tongue against Ritsu's, sucking on it slowly before releasing it and gentling the kiss, placing a series of smaller kisses against Ritsu's lips, cheek, jaw, working his way towards his ear.

"I can be gentle, see?" Ritsu could hear the soft smile in his voice, could practically see it on his lips--and in a breath, Takano-san had pulled back, flashing the smile just as Ritsu had imagined it, and leaning in close again until their lips brushed with his every spoken word. "Say it again."

Ritsu frowned, pulling back as far as he could and trying to press himself into the couch--he needed _space_ , he couldn't breathe like this underneath Takano-san (had _never_ been able to breathe underneath him) and was in very real danger of being swept away. "…Why? You obviously heard me the first time."

"Because," was the simple response, and Takano-san pressed their foreheads together to bore his gaze into Ritsu's, threatening to engulf him. "Because it turns me on more than you can _possibly_ understand. Ritsu." Oh how he _wished_ Takano-san would stop calling his name in that voice. He clenched his eyes shut, focusing all his energies on clamping down the bit of him that wanted desperately to comply. "Say you want me--say you want me to fuck you--"

" _What_?" he practically squeaked, eyes going wide and brows drawing together in irritated confusion. "I'm _not_ saying tha--" But his words were cut off, and his voice hit a strangled high note as he scrabbled for purchase against Takano-san, fingers fisting in the bits of shirt he could reach as Takano-san pressed their hips together, brushing the rough fabric of his pants teasingly against the thin cotton of the sweats Ritsu had donned earlier. "Sh-- _it_ ," he cursed softly, breath coming in short pants, and he pressed his face into the crook of Takano-san's neck, lips flapping against the heated skin beneath him. "Fine--fine, fine. I…I want you." He let his fingers fall slack against Takano-san's shirt, and slid his arms up and around the strong shoulders and taut neck, pulling them closer and muffling his words. "I've always wanted you… Even when I didn't want you, I wanted you more than anything." It was the least sensical thing he'd ever spoken--and yet somehow it felt like the best expression of his feelings he could muster up just now.

Either way, Takano-san didn't seem to mind, bringing his hands that had been skittering about under Ritsu's clothes up to push Ritsu's shirt over and off his head. "Arms--lift your--" And more out of worry that if he didn't comply, Takano-san would remove the shirt _and_ the arms attached to it, Ritsu arched his back and raised his arms to let the shirt slip off easily, only to be tossed aside in favor of attentions now being paid to Ritsu's pants.

He lifted up on his elbows to protest the rate at which things were proceeding, but was met with another kiss, fingers at the back of his head threading through his hair as Takano-san gentled his worries and continued to move things along. Ritsu pulled away enough to manage a word in edgewise, "We really shouldn't…"

Takano-san snorted softly, breath falling light and ticklish against his sensitive skin. "You want me, though--it'd be cruel to deny such freely confessed desire. Besides--" His voice dropped, growing rough and playful and sending a shiver through Ritsu, "--I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you, too."

And _fuck_ if he hadn't been waiting to hear those words for what felt like ages, even though they cut to the quick and laid him open, exposed and vulnerable. He wanted to be wanted, so badly--wanted someone (wanted _Saga-sempai_ , Takano-san) to want him in return just as badly as he ached for them.

Takano-san's free hand slid down his stomach, trailing goosebumps in Ritsu's flesh in its wake, and teased at the hem of his pants, dipping down briefly to trace the outline of the erection building beneath the soft cotton and sending a shudder through Ritsu. He snapped a hand down to grip Takano-san about the wrist tightly, earning a confused stare. "…Onodera, you're--"

"Just--" he interrupted sharply, voice strained as he struggled to regain control over his higher brain functions and to resist giving in to his id, "--just, not…not here. Haru-chan plays out here." He thought for a brief moment that he noticed Takano-san blanche at being reminded of Ritsu's daughter just then--and if he had, it was understandable--but on second glance it was gone. Ritsu pressed a hand to his chest to ease him backward, struggling to sit up and regain the balance that seemed to have fled him in the wake of their kissing and touching, shifting off to the side and keeping Takano-san's wrist firm in his grasp as he tugged gently in silent urging to follow Ritsu to the bedroom. Blessedly, Takano-san didn't say a word.

The room was dim, but Ritsu didn't bother to flip on the light--it was better this way; he didn't have to see, under the glaring fluorescent glow, that he was about to let himself be pushed back onto the bed he'd shared with An-chan...that Takano-san would _know_ he had. Letting Takano-san's wrist drop away, he padded silently into the bathroom, fishing around under the cabinet for a box of half-used condoms he remembered storing there, and grabbing a small travel bottle of baby oil-- _this is where things are going, though, so either kick me out or shut up_. With a sigh, he shuffled back into the room, discreetly setting the prophylactics and oil on the bedside table and feeling Takano-san watching him the whole time. When it became too much, he huffed and whirled around--finding that somehow Takano-san had slipped around the bed, winding up right behind Ritsu and looking like he was fully intent on putting the condom and lubricant to use right away.

Ritsu swallowed, trying not to let himself get caught up in the way what little light was filtering into the room reflected in the glint of Takano-san's eyes, almost predatory. Suddenly he felt fifteen all over again, and Saga-sempai was _staring_  at him, leaving him flushed and flustered and without a clue what to do. He didn't want to wait for this to _start_ \--he just wanted to suddenly be in the middle of it, not having to worry about what to say or do or where to touch or kiss or--"We can leave the light off?"

The corner of Takano-san's lips quirked up on one side. "...It's nothing I haven't seen before," and Ritsu flushed, but didn't shy away when Takano-san leaned forward, cocking his head just to the side to press his lips to Ritsu's, using his hand to cup just under his chin and urge his head to angle upward. The easy slip of their lips and tongues sliding together was growing familiar, comfortable, and Ritsu let his jaw fall open, welcoming Takano-san in with a soft gasp as his free hand dipped down to tease at the hem of Ritsu's pants again.

He let himself be guided back against the bed, knees giving as he bumped the mattress and sending him down into a seated position. Above him, Takano-san pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the side before laying a hand on his chest and gentle pressing him down flat. "Are you still mouthy in bed?"

"I-- _never_ \--" But he bit his tongue when Takano-san had the gall to _laugh_ at him, shaking his head. "Just--get on with it..."

"You could try being a little sexier when you say that."

Ritsu flushed and looked away. "This is what you get, take it or leave it."

"Definitely taking it, no question about that." He shifted onto the bed, balancing with one knee on the mattress straddling Ritsu, who was trying not to look too worried just yet. At fifteen, he'd been thrilled to have Saga-sempai touch him, more than willing to let his sempai do with him what he would; but at twenty-five, it was a little humiliating to lie here on his back like a dead fish and make his partner do all the work. Still, Takano-san wasn't complaining or making overtures that _you could put forth a little effort too, you know_ , and so Ritsu lifted up onto his elbows and watched with guarded interest as Takano-san retrieved the oil Ritsu had fetched from the bathroom and set it just to the side, unopened. _Surely_ they weren't going stright to--"Lift your hips." He must have caught the flash of panic that managed to make its way to Ritsu's face, for he added with a small smile, "I can't blow you through your pants. Though I'm willing to give it a shot, if you insist."

"That--won't be necessary," he huffed, arching his back to allow Takano-san to easily slip off the sweats he'd been lounging in--together with his boxers. He opened his mouth to protest this sudden move, but snapped it back shut immediately, grinding his teeth to keep from crying out when Takano-san immediately took him in hand, gently teasing and tugging the wilted erection back into life. He let his arms go limp and flopped back on the bed, eyes clenched shut, and tried not to embarrass himself too much--because _fuck_ it'd been a while since he'd been touched by anyone other than himself, and last night had very nearly undone him. He was going to have to set _boundaries_ with Mutou-sensei in the future.

He felt a chilly wetness brush his cock, Takano-san licking his palm to give a smoother ride, and after a few insistent tugs, Ritsu felt the blood pooling in his crotch, leaving his cock to lie full and heavy in Takano-san's grasp. This was...good, comfortable--not frightening, just...expectation, waiting for the coming pleasure.

There was a soft _snap_ , and Ritsu lifted his head, brows furrowed in confusion, just in time to see Takano-san toss aside the bottle of oil he'd just squeezed a dollop from. "Takano-sa--" But his words were cut off at the welcome, cool slickness of fingers teasing his balls and the thin strip of skin just behind them, pleasure compounded by the fingers wrapped in a tight ring around his shaft at the same time, each new tug and press an assault on his self-control. He took deep, slow breaths, hissing and slapping a hand to his mouth when he felt the head of his cock be enveloped in wet warmth as Takano-san mouthed him lazily--tentative teasing nips at the crown first before wrapping his lips firmly around the shaft and bracing his free hand against Ritsu's hip to lower himself down further, all the while keeping his slick fingers busy below.

Ritsu let his head fall back against the mattress and struggled to keep from thrusting up into the tight warmth of Takano-san's mouth--it was hard to remain detached, to remember that his heart wasn't completely in this and that any emotional fulfillment he derived from this would be owed by and large to satisfaction in reassuring Takano-san that his efforts weren't in vain, that while Ritsu couldn't just now (and maybe never would be able to) pour out the same feverish confession he had ten years ago, some part of him still beat for Saga-sempai, for Takano-san.

The cool, slick fingers paused in their teasing, slowly trailing downwards to press just in the narrow space between his legs, searching and seeking, and Ritsu whipped his head up again, legs spreading almost of their own accord as he gaped in shock at what Takano-san was daring to do. "That's-- _Takano-san_ , you _can't_ \--" but apparently he very much _could_ , as he pressed one thin finger inside, coupling the invasion with a long draw on Ritsu's cock that served as adequate distraction. Ritsu threw away his pride and allowed himself to thrust up and away from the questing fingers, managing two birds with one stone as this pushed his cock further into Takano-san's mouth. But victory was short-lived, as Takano-san pressed him back down to the bed insistently and probed deeper with his finger before gently drawing it back out, rewarding Ritsu with delicious pressure around the head of his cock.

He grunted in response to the simultaneous irritation and pleasure, giving himself further to the _irritation_ side of things when Takano-san eased in a second finger and started scissoring, not entirely sure the action was balanced out by the perfunctory swipe of his tongue he subsequently allowed against Ritsu's balls, sucking insistently before releasing them with a loud pop.

This had hardly been what he'd been expecting when he guided Takano-san in here, but he supposed the man wanted to just drag this out, make it last; he probably half-assumed this would be his only chance...and Ritsu wasn't sure if he was right in that assumption, or sorely mistaken.

And then, that lovely pressure and warm wetness around his cock was gone, replaced by equally skilled fingers, true, but still greatly missed--and he voiced his disappointment with a keening whine, lifting up and giving Takano-san a look as if to say _what gives?_ The man only snorted in response, shifting up onto the bed fully and bumping his own cock, hard and straining against his pants, along Ritsu's thigh as he continued to work one hand along the stiff, pert shaft and the other against the balls hanging heavy below and hole stretching in preparation. "I've missed this, you know..."

Ritsu tried to keep his voice steady, focusing on the fingers swiping just over his cockhead and silently willing them to tug harder, tighter, and faster. "Wh--what?"

"Seeing you; like this." Ritsu scoffed. "It's true--I could sit here fucking you with my fingers all night."

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Yeah... I'd rather fuck you proper." And at this, Ritsu flushed brightly and glanced away; he was a grown man, but conversations like this were far from par for the course for a quiet evening at home, so he could be forgiven, he hoped. Takano-san, though, was not so obliging, and he chuckled audibly, apologizing shortly. "Just...reminds me of how you used to be." And then his strokes grew slow, in and out and up and down, making every movement count and burning his presence into every corner of Ritsu's body. "All nervous, and scared...but excited, too..." He pulled his fingers out and reached with one hand for the condom package on the dresser and the other for the oil, keeping eyecontact with Ritsu as he leaned forward to straddle him. "...And _so_ turned on."

From far away, there was the soft crackle of the package being opened, a click and snap of the oil being uncapped--but all Ritsu could focus on was Takano-san's eyes boring into him, filling his head with memories of lazy April afternoons and Saga-sempai above and behind him, pressing in with a soft burn that hurt more than Ritsu had wanted to admit but was all the more amazing because it was _Saga-sempai_ , and this was just another in a long line of experiences he'd never _imagined_ he might have with the person he'd been silently loving from afar for so long. It didn't make sense--he was just a creepy little stalker first-year, and Saga-sempai was so quiet and beautiful and always seemed so _sad_ , which somehow made him even more attractive. They didn't fit at all at first glance--but just like that, with Saga-sempai filling him inside and out, they fit together _perfectly_.

"Yeah..." Takano-san breathed, nudging Ritsu's cock with his own, sheathed in a condom and slick with oil. "You looked just like that."

He silently guided himself towards Ritsu's hole, angling his hips for a comfortable entry, and eased inside with the patience of a saint, glacier-like in speed and always languid and relaxed when just under the surface he was ready to snap, send his hips popping forward to slap against Ritsu's thighs and seat himself fully--but for now, there was only the tight anticipation, cries strangled in Ritsu's throat as he fought against the intrusion with all his mental faculties, clamping down on the urge to squirm away and instead propping his legs further open and shifting his hips up to let gravity help Takano-san slide in deeper, faster, sealing their joining proper.

Takano-san grunted roughly, a sound he swiftly quelled--and Ritsu gave a silent cheer at being able to ruffle his feathers a bit; it was hardly fair that he was the only party being undone by this whole situation inside and out. Perhaps in an effort to keep Ritsu from trying such tactics again, though, Takano-san let himself settle down until he was nearly flush against Ritsu, balancing precariously over him until their chests brushed, peaked pink nipples sending shivers through them both with every pass. "I missed this, too." And he drew out long, as far as the angle would let him, before pressing back in again, slipping deeper this time until he was seated fully, the curve of his hips pressing into Ritsu's thighs. He cocked his head to the side, brushing their cheeks together and letting his breath tickle the delicate shell of Ritsu's ear. "...You were the first person I ever slept with out of love, you know." To punctuate this, he drew out short and pressed in tight again, sending a jolt through Ritsu's body that manifested as a strangled cry in his throat, back arching. "Maybe you could be the last one, too..."

And if he offered any other sweet nothings following this, Ritsu didn't notice--for Takano-san eased himself up, bracing his hands on either side of Ritsu to support his upper body, and then began thrusting in earnest, drawing out long and slow before pressing back in with fervor. It was a familiar aching burn followed up with being filled to the brim with heat and slick pressure, repeated in a nerverending rising round of passion and pleasure beat into his body.

Ritsu arched his back, angling his hips for a cleaner, slicker slide that came faster and smoother and therefore all the more _sensitive_ , pounding his insides in a rising crescendo that quickly had him forgetting his earlier vow not to give Takano-san the satisfaction of knowing how undone he could render Ritsu. The room was filled with a chorus of slick, liquid slaps and grunts and heavy breathing and  _faster fuck yes_ , all amplified when Takano-san shifted in place and gave an exaggerated thrust to brush along that spot, the steady in-out bringing the pleasure ten-fold and sending Ritsu scrabbling for purchase when his orgasm crept up silent as death and crashed over him in a cacophony or sensation, sending him spurting over his belly and clenching tight around Takano-san's cock, still buried within him. With a few sharp, punching thrusts, though, Takano-san was pressing him down to the bed again, knuckles white gripping his hips as he waited for his release to subside, little jolts and shivers following him as he pulled out of Ritsu and collapsed on the bed next to him, boneless but for the power to twine their fingers together in a move Ritsu didn't entirely approve of but allowed nonetheless.

For several long moments, the room was silent but for their breaths, panting and heaving as if they'd just run a marathon, and in the back of his mind, Ritsu groaned silently _fuck, I just slept with my boss_. It must have shown on his face, for Takano-san followed up this thought with, "It wasn't _that_ bad," before reaching down to strip off the condom and tie it off, tossing it in the small trash can by the bed.

"I--no, it's not that..." He wiped a hand over his eyes, leaving it to rest there for a few long moments. "...It's not like that."

"Oh?" And _fuck_ now he had that cocky confidence he took on, warning Ritsu that if he allowed him an inch, he'd take a mile. "What's it like, then?"

Ritsu let his arm fall away, if only to glare up at the man. "...Worth the wait," he allowed, already feeling his body start to protest the workout they'd just engaged in and not ready to fight at full strength just yet.

Takano-san huffed a dry laugh, sitting up--somewhere along the way, his pants had been shuffled off, and Ritsu tried not to stare, despite Takano-san clearly having no issue with showing off. "Not my fault it took this long." He reached for the bottle of oil and replaced it on the nightstand. "If it were up to me, we'd have been doing this for the past ten years."

Ritsu rolled his eyes and shifted onto his side to spare his backside the stress of supporting his weight, grateful for the excuse to put Takano-san to his back. Now was hardly the time to be reminded of all the wasted years spent pining and regretting and wishing. He punched the pillow beneath his head lightly, breathing in the scent of sweat and baby oil and sex. It reminded him of _Saga-sempai_ \--and he wished not for the first time that he were a bigger man, one with enough sense to own up to his actions all those years ago.

He felt a large, warm presence draw up behind him, Takano-san's limp cock nestling just at the swell of his ass and forcing Ritsu to focus on the patterns in the paneling along the wall. "Whatever you think happened back then..." His breath was hot and hissed over his ear, flowing through his hair and tickling his temples. "I loved you. Really, _seriously_ loved you." He brought a hand up to Ritsu's neck, brushing the hair dusting his nape away to press his lips against the skin there. "Just--I wanted you to know that." Ritsu closed his eyes and prayed for strength not to turn around and do what he feared he was about to. "You always gave me so much and felt so much for me...I wanted you to know it wasn't for nothing."

But his prayers went unanswered, and despite the protests of his body, Ritsu shifted in place until his body drew up long and flush against Takano-san's own, chilly in the rapidly cooling room now that they'd settled down. He lifted up onto one elbow, using his free arm to reach forward and thread fingers through Takano-san's hair as he guided their lips together, pressing a chaste but insistent kiss there.

"None of this was ever for _nothing_." _It was for you, idiot._


	10. Chapter 10

He hadn't meant to stay the night.

But dozing after one round had led to rousing hard some time before midnight and waking Onodera with insistent nips and soft presses of lips to his neck that had eventually, after some pressing, turned into another round that was eerily silent, the only sounds those that naturally rose up between them--desperate grunts and muffled cries and pleasured gasps and labored breathing--until they'd collapsed, spent, entangled in one another and lulled themselves to sleep by the thudding of their hearts in their chests and the deep, gentle inhale-exhale shared across Onodera's pillow.

Masamune was the first to rouse again, now, and he didn't know what time it was--only that it was nearing sunrise according to the soft, gray light filtering in through the curtains at the far side of the room. He needed to be up soon--they both did, actually--but another hour would hurt nothing, and besides, a moment like this of quiet reflection with one arm draped across a warm body was best appreciated in the here and now. Who knew what fresh hell Onodera would concoct in his mind in an attempt at self-beration and struggle to push Masamune away, if only at arms' length. Maybe he'd been tipsy last night, maybe he'd just gotten carried away in the heat of the moment, maybe it was one of a thousand other things Onodera would be able to hand-wave away to convince himself that he hadn't been himself, hadn't been in his _right mind_ when he'd invited Masamune into his bed (quite literally).

But all of that was for another hour or so from now; this moment right here was for silent reflection, for _appreciation_ that for once in his life, everything was pretty damn perfect. Ichinose-sensei's manuscript was coming along splendidly (thanks in no small part to his own efforts a few late nights), all of his editors' problem clients seemed to be on track as well (even Yoshikawa-sensei), and he was laid up in bed ass-to-crotch with the crazy basket-case he hadn't been able to get out of his head for a good decade--and he somehow had fallen _even more in love_.

There were, of course, issues to consider.

Issues like _Onodera has a kid_ \--but Haru-chan really kind of wore one's resolve down until you couldn't help but get a little light-headed whenever she smiled. She took after her father that way, it was a little unsettling. Or issues like _Onodera's a subordinate_ \--but Masamune had no intention of letting his feelings for the guy come in the way of pushing him to be the best he could be, no matter the field; quite the contrary, he planned to ride him harder, and trusted that Onodera would appreciate the same.

Then there were the tricky issues...like _maybe Onodera will never quite feel for me again how I can't help feeling for him now_ , which well, would just _fucking suck_. Masamune had never considered himself the romantic type, but when he thought long and hard about the fact that he'd fallen _hard_ for a gangly scrawny little freshman just cause he'd had a cute smile and innocent, frank way of loving with all he had, about the fact that he'd fallen hard and _stayed fallen_ for nearly a third of his natural life, about the fact that even though that freshman had filled out into a prickly, jaded 25-year-old with a kid hanging on his coattails and an ex-wife--Masamune _still_ was down, flat on the ground, falling for the guy all over again just because some things about Onodera Ritsu (whatever had happened to _Oda_?) would never _not_ be utterly charming...

Yeah, maybe he _was_ a romantic in certain ways. Mostly the _hopeless_ kind.

It was a little scary, he had to admit: maybe this was a one-off thing. Maybe with last night, Onodera had settled some things in his mind about their relationship and when he woke in the next hour or so, it would be with a clearer head and a few words for Masamune that he'd hate to deliver but would do so nonetheless because having a family matured you (or it was supposed to) and gave you the balls to face down the nasty things you didn't want to confront but had to anyways. Maybe Masamune would have to prove to the both of them that he _could_ keep his personal and professional lives and feelings separate and that just because Onodera would never-- _could_ never--return these new feelings that felt somehow rawer and realer and therefore all the more precious than they had ten years ago didn't mean anything at Marukawa needed to change between them.

...Yeah, it was _fucking terrifying_ , that thought.

"Ngh..."

Masamune stiffened, arm immediately going slack where he must have tightened it around Onodera's waist, and he whispered a mantra over and over in his head of _no no no not yet_ , but it was to no avail, and Onodera grunted again in protest and reached up with his free hand to rub at his eyes before realization as to where he was slowly dawned. The matress shifted beneath them as he twisted around and craned his neck over his shoulder. "Takano...san?" Masamune just raised his brows, content to try and maintain his failing grasp on their quiet morning for a few more moments.

Onodera shook his head slowly, blinking blearily, but--blessedly, the expected flailing and and protesting was nowhere to be seen, instead kept at bay apparently by the haze of still rousing consciousness as Onodera processed his surroundings. He wiped a hand over his face and inhaled deeply. "...You stayed the night?"

Masamune paused, choosing his words carefully. "...I didn't mean to; there was just...a lot going on, so--" But Onodera was already elsewhere, shifting upright to sit with the sheets pooled at his waist as he reached for his phone on the bedside table nearest him, frowning when he noted the hour. Masamune mirrored his movements, easing upright and ignoring the aching strain of muscles that hadn't been put to work in quite some time. "You were hardly kicking me out, though, so I just assumed..."

He trailed off when it seemed that Onodera was distracted, but a soft flush to his cheeks and the way he pursed his lips was evidence enough that he'd heard Masamune loud and clear. He verified this with a short nod to his head, adding, "...I understand," as he replaced his phone on the bedside table.

There was a long stretch of silence between them, painful in its heaviness and the awkward way it draped itself between them; Masamune could handle Onodera's prickly demeanor and his overreactions, had been numbed to them by now, but this almost _relaxed_ way he was letting the situation wash over him, almost as if he'd given up, was--

"So what do we do now?"

"Eh?"

Onodera fisted his hands in the sheets at his waist, back growing stiff. "...What do we do now? This was..." He didn't finish his thought, but he didn't really need to; Masamune could easily fill in the blanks with any number of waffling comments. _This was inappropriate_ , _this was something we shouldn't have done_ , _this was a bad idea_ , _this was wrong of us to have given in to and now_ \--"--wasn't something I was...really prepared for. I'm afraid I didn't consider any consequences, and...I apologize, but I'm not sure what we're supposed to do now."

...Well that was new. Masamune hunched his shoulders, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Get up; get dressed; go be manga editors for the next ten to twelve hours."

He didn't turn his head, but he could feel Onodera watching him warily. "...And then what?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Not like I've done this all that often."

"But--you said that you'd slept with--"

"Unless you have some suggestions?"

Onodera flushed, ire obviously peaking, and Masamune let a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders. This was familiar; _this_ Onodera he could deal with. "Of--of course not, that's why I asked..." He ran a hand through his hair, brows furrowing. "Just...we shouldn't have done this, but we can't exactly take it back now; we should..." He trailed off again, obviously as at a loss for ideas as Masamune. "...do _something."  
_  
And he was right; they needed to do a _lot_ , rather. They needed to talk, they needed to be alone, they needed to go away for a week and spend every waking moment learning all there was to know about each other, they needed to have no deadlines looming or daughters to pick up or ex-wives to bum dinner off of, they needed to just babble and chatter until they one or both went hoarse, and then spend the rest of the time just kissing and touching and fucking to make up for lost opportunities.

But none of that was going to happen, not in the near future--maybe not ever. Masamune huffed softly and rearranged the sheets at his midsection, casting about on the floor for the pants he distantly remembered shimmying out of in a haze of lust. "It's still early yet; just go back to sleep and make sure you're in before noon. You've got Mutou-sensei's latest draft waiting; we'll go over it this afternoon."

Onodera shook his head--at which part, Masamune couldn't tell initially. "No...I'm up now. May as well make myself useful..." Masamune regarded him for a moment more before shrugging ambivalently and throwing back the covers, squatting to retrieve a familiar-looking pair of boxers that he slipped into before attending to any other articles of clothing.

In short order, he'd tugged on his pants--unbuttoned--and located his undershirt, shaking it free of wrinkles and turning it right-side-out, making overtures to slip it on before continuing his search for his socks when he felt himself being watched rather intently, and glanced back at the mattress to find Onodera staring at him rather unabashedly with an unreadable expression. "...Something else you needed?"

"...No." But he didn't shake his gaze.

Masamune snorted and pulled the undershirt on, tugging until it settled comfortably over his broad chest and endowed him with some semblance of dignity. In an effort to place their relationship back on familiar ground, he teased knowingly, "What, still horny?"

What came back was not quite the indignant sputter he'd been hoping for, but it was close enough: " _What_ \--you want to do it _again_?!"

"Of course," was his immediate, honest response; he'd been deliberately careful in keeping his thoughts in line since waking that morning, keeping his gaze from lingering too long on the bits of Onodera exposed to his roving eyes and distracting himself with thoughts more pure when he found his mind drifting back to only hours before, threatening to render this whole conversation all the _more_ awkward. But that he had to go to such lengths in the first place had to be evidence enough that _of course_ he hadn't had enough of Onodera-- _Ritsu_ \--to get through the walk to the station, let alone a full day of work from now til sunset. He wasn't going to sugarcoat it--not when Onodera seemed so _shocked_ by the very notion that yeah, Masamune had a fully functioning libido tuned acutely to Onodera himself; what the hell was he supposed to feel sitting a hand's breadth away from the guy in nothing but a sheet?

Onodera flushed and glanced away finally. "But--we have work, and Haru-chan will be home later, and we _still_ haven't--"

And _fuck_ Masamune had had about enough of this. He hastily zipped his pants with a huff and shoved Onodera roughly against the chest, just to the center to force him back down as he slipped onto the bed beside him and leaned across his torso with one hand braced on either side, face in shadow and brows furrowed. "Are you doing this on purpose?"

"Eh?"

"Being this fucking oblivious; what the hell do you mean _what do we do now_?"

Onodera opened and closed his mouth a few times, struggling for words. "I just--asked a question--"

"Yeah, a stupid one. I've been telling you _what we do now_ for the past month, every opportunity. Don't _ask me_ again; I feel like an idiot. You know full well what I want to do now--so stop playing dumb." He snorted softly. "Just make it snappy; I need a shower."

"Make it...?"

He sighed. "Whatever--half-assed excuse you want to drop on me about last night. If you can't come up with anything off the top of your head, we'll do a raincheck and reconvene later this afternoon." He swallowed; he hadn't meant to sound so... _whiny_. "It's too early to put up with your bullshit, honestly."

" _I wasn't_ \--" Onodera started hotly, lifting up onto his elbows and pushing Masamune back. "--what the hell, do you just go through every conversation we have together in your head before the actual performance, to make sure you play your part well or something?" Masamune frowned, and he continued at a frantic pace, as if he'd started himself down a hill and he had to run to make sure he didn't tumble head over heel. "I only meant--this is hardly usual for either of us, and I just assumed..." He waved a hand. "That--you'd know what we're supposed to do. Now." Masamune was _quite_ lost, and Onodera as well looked as if he was hitting the limit of his _be frank and forthright_ quota for the day. "I...I _told_ you. I don't know anything; not about what I want or what's appropriate or anything. I just...even so, I still think I want--"

But some part of Masamune must have been able to piece together what Onodera was trying to beat into his head without directly applying force to his temple, and it jolted his limbic system into action, cutting off Onodera's needlessly wordy waffling with a kiss that swiftly shifted into high gear, a tongue thrusting inside to sweep the cavity and stroke against Onodera's own as he suckled on the freely offered lips, greedily swallowing the shocked gasps and shifting his balance onto one arm as he slipped his free hand down Onodera's torso to his cock that-- _shit_ was already half-hard; had he been watching Masamune dress...and getting off to it?

Onodera's fingers came up, scrabbling to grip tightly, knuckles white, at Masamune's biceps; his hips were trembling as Masamune executed a few short, swift strokes to coax him into full arousal, swiping a thumb across the crown to smear the drops of precum gathering there down the shaft and smooth his efforts along. He didn't even care about his own cock; he just wanted, wanted _so bad_ to make Onodera feel like that had been the best thing Masamune had heard in ages and that he _fully appreciated what it meant_.

Onodera's breaths were coming sharp and fast, as were the tiny thrusts he tried to keep his hips from indulging in to little effect; Masamune hardly begrudged him, though, making his own efforts to time his strokes to meet Onodera's little thrusts as cleanly as possible, directing his attentions south and leaving Onodera to drive their kisses into long, languishing affairs that were more simply sharing breath and sliding lips alongside each other, with the occasional peck at the corner or along the jaw.

Without warning, though, Onodera gasped sharply against his lips, a keening cry of desperation that devolved into _I can't_ \-- _!_ before Masamune felt the warm, heavy cock sliding through his hand twitch and swell with its orgasm, a few milky streams spurting from the slit at the head and coating his fingers even as they continued to stroke with intent, tugging until only the post-climax tremors were left.

He released Onodera's lips, letting him fall back red and flushed and beautiful against the bed. For a few long moments, he just watched Onodera try and recover his senses, noting the way his breathing slowed its frantic pace and his chest rose and fell in a more normal rhythm as the seconds ticked by, taking the both of them back to the mortal plane from whatever seventh heaven they'd been caught up in. Masamune's cock nestled in his boxers twitched in silent reminder that jerking himself off would feel almost as good as jerking off Onodera had and that he should attend to that matter _posthaste_ , but he made efforts to ignore it for now, instead trying to keep his lips from quirking up into the most shit-eating of grins when Onodera's arousal-blown pupils contrated and brought his surroundings back into focus.

"...You can't keep just kissing me to stop an argument, you know," he huffed, voice roughened from their activities.

Masamune finally gave in to his urge to smile cockily; it was totally worth it. "Your indignation is less convincing when you kiss back." Onodera rolled his eyes, as if this were entirely beside the point. "Besides, if you want me to stop so badly--stop arguing with me."

Onodera pursed his lips, hardly impressed. "I think that'll be impossible with you."

Completely unapologetic, Masamune shrugged. "I know." He shifted back across Onodera, bracing himself on either side of his torso and heedless of the state his fingers were in; the guy was going to have to wash his sheets anyways, what did it matter? Locking gazes to ensure Onodera got this through his head, he dropped his voice. "It doesn't have to be now." Onodera said nothing--but that didn't mean he didn't understand. "You don't...have to, if you don't want to, or you aren't ready yet." He swallowed thickly, praying he wasn't signing his own death certificate with this. "Just--I don't want you to run away from me anymore. I want to be able to touch you, just _touch_ even--whenever I want--" And _now_ Onodera gave him a look, and he amended with a nod, "--whenever...I need to." Onodera didn't need to know that Masamune's _need_ to touch him was going to rear its ugly head about as startlingly often as his _desire_. He licked his lips and took a breath. "So...forget everything--for now. And just...let me _try_?" His breath caught in his throat. "...Let me try to make you fall for me?"

He could feel Onodera's breathing speed up, close as they were, and could practically feel his skin flushing as well as the full force and sincerity of Masamune's words washed over him. Not for the first time, he wished _desperately_ that he could see what Onodera was thinking; so much drama between them could have been avoided if he'd just _known_ what to say, when to say it, and how not to _fuck things up_.

"...No." And _fuck_ that hurt, that terrified seizing in his chest that he hoped hadn't shown on his face. But beneath him, Onodera was reaching up to curl his fingers around Masamune's shoulder and at the nape of his neck, sending tendrils of reassuring warmth through him and dispelling the tightness that was nigh on _nauseating_. "Just...I think it's kind of moot by now."

And while Mutou-sensei's manuscript still needed going over and Haru-chan still needed picking up from school and there were still _ten years_ of unknown stretching a seemingly interminable distance between them...just now, those words were really all that mattered within the confines of Onodera's bed.

The rest they'd address after showers.


End file.
